Unknown
by Fleur Princesse
Summary: In a twist of events, Harry finds himself far from his familiar life. This is the story of how Harry shapes, changes, and touches the lives and destinies of those around him. In a world of knowns, Harry has but one disguise - the unknown. Marauder era.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, all! So, I got an itch for a new story and simply had to oblige. This one will have chapters. It won't be just a one-shot. I'm not sure how regular updating will be. I guess it depends on how the story is received.

This fic involves an older, post-war Harry who by some accident, has ended up in the Marauder era. I've always been interested in the idea of role reversal - that is, Harry as the adult, and his teachers and parents as the children. While time-travel is an aspect of this story, it will not be the main focus. This is going to be a story about how Harry touches and changes the lives of those around him, and how, in some cases, a person's destiny simply cannot be changed.

Enjoy! Please let me know what you think. Your reviews will help me determine if I should continue.

**Unknown**

**Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express**

Severus Snape walked with his shoulders hunched and his head down. It wouldn't do to attract too much attention, especially as he could already hear the laughter and shouting of Potter and Black. He dared look up only once as he passed their compartment on the Hogwarts Express, in the hopes that _she _might be there, too. But it was only Potter, Black, Lupin, and that pathetic excuse for a wizard Pettigrew. Severus brought his head down quickly and moved by their compartment before they noticed him, even though his hand strayed to his wand and a curse hovered on the tip of his tongue.

The rear of the train was quieter, though nearly all the compartments were still full. He passed a few knots of Slytherins here and there, and though they nodded and greeted him, they did not invite him to sit down. It was not until he reached the very last compartment on the train that a welcome voice spoke his name.

"Severus. Sit with me."

He turned at once. Vendra Irmandis stood there, smiling blandly at him from behind dark purple bangs. She was a tiny little witch in his year, Slytherin, with cropped purple hair and the brightest blue eyes at Hogwarts. The other students tended to ignore Vendra, for despite her size - she barely reached Severus's chest - she was out-spoken, brilliant, quick with both wand and wit, and had a speculative amount of creature blood running through her veins. Yet, since their first year together at Hogwarts, Vendra had taken a liking to Severus. And Vendra's likings were not things to be ignored.

Severus entered her compartment and sat down by the window. She took the seat opposite him and fixed him with her round eyes.

"Did you have a pleasant summer?" she asked. He raised one fine black eyebrow in answer, and Vendra's lips twitched. "Yes, mine was dismal as well." She paused momentarily before continuing, hesitantly, "Your father?"

"Blessedly absent," replied Severus promptly, with a twisted little smile. "For most of the holiday, anyway."

Vendra nodded as if she expected nothing less. "Of course. You'll be coming of age, soon. He has reason to be absent."

Severus looked out the window as his smile turned genuine. Seventeen. That's how old he would be, come January. And then his father would no longer have wizard law to hide behind. Severus would be able to do magic.

"I think we should throw you a birthday party," said Vendra, and Severus lost his smile immediately.

"Absolutely not," he snapped. He turned his head sharply toward her. She smiled innocently at him. "No, Vendra."

She rolled her eyes. "You always try to ruin all of my fun, Severus."

"I'm not trying," he said smoothly. "I actually am ruining all of your fun. There will be no such thing as a party. Ever."

Vendra laughed. "That's okay. I don't really need a party. Not when a different kind of fun has stopped just outside the door." She laughed again. "Do come in, won't you?"

The compartment door slid open, and Severus felt his whole body tighten. His fingers twitched imperceptibly toward his wand, though he made no greater move than that. He stayed seated, and kept his eyes on the newcomers, and whispered to Vendra, "You have a much miscalculated interpretation of fun, love."

She giggled.

Potter and Black, standing side by side in the doorway, glanced between the two of them. Black sneered in disgust. "Finally got yourself a girl then, Snivellus? Figures it would be someone like her."

"Oh, Sirius, I'm flattered," said Vendra wistfully. "Though I was rather hoping to see dear Remus. Is he with you?"

Another head poked around the corner, this one with shaggy light brown hair. Tawny eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Hi, Vendra."

She darted forward. In one smooth motion she had Potter and Black shoved out of her way and Lupin pulled past them into the compartment. Severus watched them hug with a black hole in his stomach. He had no idea what little Vendra saw in Lupin.

"You smell good, Remus," she whispered. "Like the moon, and like skin that's been in the sunshine." She let go of him only very reluctantly, but then laughed again as Severus grabbed her hand and pulled her away just as Black grabbed Lupin's hand and pulled him away.

"What have you done to him, witch?" snarled Black. He had his wand out now, and Severus took that as his cue to stand. Black, despite his immaturity, was a capable and often dangerous wizard, and now, with his grey eyes stormy, Severus didn't want to take any chances.

But before anyone could make a move, Lupin said in a voice half soothing, half exasperated, "Oh, stop, Sirius. You know Vendra was in my O.W.L. study group last term."

"She's a Slytherin," said Potter, and his hazel eyes, narrow behind his glasses, slid toward Severus. For a moment, before he looked away, they were full of loathing.

"And she helped me get an Outstanding in History of Magic, so just drop it," said Remus, finally losing patience.

"Doesn't mean I have to like her," said Black almost pleasantly, though his teeth were bared not in a smile, but in a snarl.

"Trust me, Black," said Severus for the first time, "the sentiment is most assuredly returned."

Black turned his snarl on Severus and finally raised his wand. It was the moment Severus had been waiting for. His wand was in his hand in an instant, and his nonverbal shield was raised just as Black cast a nonverbal jinx that sent a bolt of red light through the compartment. Severus felt it sizzle over his head.

"Boys!" snapped Vendra loudly. She stepped between them, her hands raised. "Play nicely. You don't really want detention before term even starts, do you?"

Black continued to growl wordlessly while Potter looked between them, his wand raised too. Severus stood there, a curse and a shield waiting in his mind, until Black sniffed haughtily and turned away.

"Come on," he said. "We don't need to hang around filth like these two. Trolley's at the other end, anyway. I think Peter's getting us snacks."

Lupin, with a smile for Vendra and an apologetic shrug of the shoulders, followed Black out of the compartment. Potter, still with wand in hand, lingered.

He looked between Severus and Vendra for a moment before narrowing his gaze on the former. "If you try to approach Lily Evans at all this term," he said, slowly and clearly, "I will personally maim those hands of yours. What will you do when you have no potions to hide behind?"

Severus had his wand raised and hex half-formed before Vendra grasped his wrist.

Potter sneered at them. "I'm warning you, _Snivellus_, stay away from Lily."

And then he, too, vanished from the compartment. Severus stalked forward and slid the door closed with a bang. He turned, fuming, to find Vendra sitting calmly by the window again, her knees pulled up under her chin.

"Why did you stop me?" he asked her.

She looked at him like he was stupid. "Because I don't want you to get in trouble," she answered. "And because you weren't the only one ready to throw a hex, or did you not notice the tip of his wand glowing?"

Severus sat down and hunched his shoulders. "I can handle James Potter."

Vendra smiled indulgently. "I have no doubt of that," she said. "But you underestimate him, Severus. You underestimate all of them."

"I assure you I do not," he returned stiffly. His mind glanced briefly to a time, not so long ago, when he had been hanging upside down near the lake, unable to free himself. "I surely do not."

Vendra just shook her head. After a moment of silence, she tried to change the subject. "I saw her earlier, you know. Evans, I mean."

Severus looked up. "You saw Lily? Is she –" He paused and licked his lips. "Is she well?"

"Quite," said Vendra. "She said she had a lovely holiday, but that she's looking forward to seeing her mates again and she's excited about the challenge that N.E.W.T. level classes will bring."

"Did she," Severus began, but had to stop and clear his throat. "Did she say if she spent holiday with her family?"

Vendra gave him such a pitying smile that Severus had to look away. "She spent most of it with her family. And a week with James Potter."

There it was. Severus closed his eyes. "A week with Potter."

He didn't say it as a question, but Vendra answered anyway. "Yes."

Severus opened his eyes and glared out the window. "She told me she was done with me. She told me. But somehow I'd hoped…" He stood suddenly and, pointing his wand at the shelf above the seats, said, "Reducto!"

The shelf blasted off the wall. There was a very loud crash, a squeal from Vendra, a whispered _Reparo! _from Severus, and then they were both sitting still again. By unspoken agreement, they mentioned neither James nor Lily for the rest of the train ride. Severus spent most of the ride staring out the window, watching the clouds as they grew steadily darker.

"Have you ever had a train ride without rain?" he asked at one point.

Vendra tilted her head to one side and blinked her blue eyes. "Now that you mention it, no."

She bought a variety of sweets when the trolley made it down their end, half of which she thrust at Severus, valiantly ignoring his attempts to return them. "You're too skinny," she said simply, while biting into a Pumpkin Pasty.

Rain started sliding down the window. Severus tracked the drops with his eyes and occasionally ate what Vendra pushed into his hands. They were not disturbed apart from one time, when the Head Boy, a Ravenclaw named Turner Parks stepped in to inquire about the crash that Severus had caused.

"Are you sure it was our compartment?" asked Vendra politely. "As you can see, nothing here is amiss."

Parks gave the compartment a quick glance, nodded, and left. Soon, after it was dark and with rain still falling, the train came to a halt in Hogsmeade station. Severus and Vendra left together, and managed to find a school carriage that had only two fourth-year Hufflepuffs, both of whom were too frightened of Slytherins to even glance at their new companions. Vendra patted the thestral, invisible to most, as she climbed into the carriage; Severus only gave its skeletal face a cool glance. Part of him, a very small, child-like part, regretted being able to see the thestral. But the war had made sure he could see it.

The ride to the castle was silent, though Vendra gazed quite openly at the poor Hufflepuffs, who started trembling halfway through the ride and bolted from the carriage the moment it stopped. Severus grinned after them, but the grin dropped off his face as he and Vendra tramped up to the castle with the other students. He could see Potter and Black and Lupin ahead, and Lily was with them, though she seemed to be ignoring Potter in favor of Lupin. Severus stared at her red hair until Vendra tugged on his hand.

"Come on," she said. She pulled him up the steps and into the Great Hall, where they took seats at the Slytherin table and waited for the feast to begin. Severus sat facing the Gryffindors. He preferred never to have his back to that lot if it could be helped. It took him several minutes to realize that his caution, at least tonight, was unnecessary. Most of the Gryffindors, in reality most of the school, were staring up at the staff table and whispering excitedly.

A moment later, accompanying Vendra's whisper of "Who is _that_?", Severus spotted the source of all the commotion. He felt the world fall away from him, and for several long seconds all he could see was the young man sitting between Dumbledore and Slughorn, emanating what had to be the most fascinating aura Severus had ever felt.

And then Headmaster Dumbledore rose to his feet, raised his hands, and silence spread across the hall.

"Welcome back," he said, his voice low and soothing, yet bright and buoyant, "to Hogwarts."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again! Thank you soo soo much to everyone who put my story on an alert! I'm glad you all have faith in me. And thank you as well to all who added "Unknown" as a favorite after just one chapter! I hope I don't let you down. Also, thank you to YourHeadIsShapedLikeAPastry, Nomercy Sedia, and Tif S. for your reviews! I'm very grateful.

Warnings: I realized I forgot to do this for the first chapter, so here it is. While romantic relationships will not be the main focus of this story, I am not going to ignore any of the character's sexuality. There will be SLASH pairings, including SS/HP (though mostly one-sided) and SS/OC. There will also be HET pairings, such as JP/LE. Don't hate. But if it's not your cup of tea, you might need to find a different story. Rated T for now. Might go up. Might not.

Also, I had to alter Harry's name slightly. However, I'm not one of those people who likes to give him a completely different name. Harry will always be Harry to me. I apologize if the small alteration bothers anyone. Now on to the chapter!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sob.

**Chapter 2 - The New Professor**

Dumbledore's speech was brief. He welcomed the first years into the hall, watched them being sorted (Slytherin received six new members), and then gave the assembled students their regular start-of-term warnings.

"No forest, no pranks, no fun," summarized Vendra in a whisper as the Headmaster spoke. "Basically."

Severus snorted to show he had heard, but did not turn his eyes away from the staff table.

"I would like to welcome back Professor Newton to Care of Magical Creatures," said Dumbledore, as a small, graying wizard rose to warm applause. "We are very pleased that he has returned to us safely."

"I'm surprised he's here at all, really," whispered Vendra again. "What with being on the run from the Dark Lord for a whole year."

Severus finally brought his eyes to her. "What? I thought he was in St. Mungo's with some sort of mysterious creature bite."

"Well that's the official story, isn't it?" said Vendra. She arched her eyebrows. "The unofficial story is that he was on the run with that daughter of his. The one born with the ability to speak most magical languages."

"No wonder the Dark Lord is after them," said Severus. His gaze wandered to the Hufflepuff table, where little Meggie Newton sat with her friends. "It would be a useful talent to possess."

After most of the students had glanced at Meggie and then away again, Dumbledore continued his speech. "I regret to inform you that William Witherton will not be returning to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this term, as he was caught trying to smuggle cursed artifacts into Diagon Alley over holiday."

Murmurs broke out around the House tables as students who had not been keeping up with the Daily Prophet discussed this news. Professor Witherton had been a favorite among most of the students previous term for his casual manner and impressive teaching style, which included anything from jaunts around the grounds and into the forest, to active dueling demonstrations with other members of staff. He had also owned quite an array of books, which he had not minded loaning out to students.

"Pity about that," said a pointy eared boy sitting a few seats down from Severus. "He was always fair, even to us Slytherins."

Severus couldn't help but agree, although as Dumbledore stood up to introduce the new professor, he thought that a change might not be so bad.

"I am, however, pleased to welcome a new addition to our staff," said Dumbledore loudly, "who has agreed to take the vacant post. Professor Harry James!"

The young man with the strong aura did not stand, but ducked his head and lowered his eyes, as if embarrassed by the attention. At both Dumbledore's and Slughorn's urging, however, he finally looked around at the students and smiled.

"Mmmmm," hummed Vendra. "He's positively delicious."

She was right. Harry James was nothing short of captivating, and that was only with his face visible, as his upper body was covered by a modest black robe. His face, at least from a distance, appeared narrow and angular. He wore rectangle-framed glasses, though Severus could not make out the exact shape or color of his eyes. His hair, however, was perfectly visible. Black as Severus's own, it was between long and short, and so flyaway that it looked as if he had either just stepped off a broom or just rolled out of bed. It put James Potter's hair to shame, and looked better doing so.

"Don't stare so, Severus," said Vendra, causing Snape to finally look away. "People might get the wrong idea." She laughed and winked.

Severus just rolled his eyes and helped himself to a large portion of shepherd's pie, which had appeared on the table along with the rest of the feast. He didn't want to worry about what other people would think if they caught him staring at the new professor, but he had to take Vendra's playful teasing for the warning that it really was. It would not do for him to attract too much attention by staring so openly Harry James, even though he saw nothing wrong with it. He was attracted to girls after all, as his obsession with Lily Evans proved, but it was not purely gender that caught Severus's attention. It was the power of the thing, the aura, the pure, undiluted magic. Lily Evans had it in great amounts, and this Harry James had it more than anyone Severus had ever come across.

Even – and he kept this strictly to himself – the Dark Lord.

As Severus took his first bite of dinner, the pointy eared Slytherin down the table said, "Strange fellow, isn't he? Seems pretty cozy with Dumbledore."

Severus glanced up at the staff table again. There was silver-haired Dumbledore and Professor James. They did seem very friendly, leaning toward each other as they whispered, a smile on the older man's face, a frown on the younger.

"Never seen him around though, have we?" asked Vendra, though it was more of a statement. "Never mentioned. And it's obvious that any friendliness happening between them is purely one-sided."

Severus looked more closely, and did notice that Professor James seemed highly distressed about something. His eyes kept roaming over the students before snapping back to Dumbledore, and he whispered urgently, as if he didn't have enough time to say all that needed to be said. Dumbledore, as was his custom, simply twinkled genially and patted the younger man on the arm before turning toward his own dinner. Harry James, obviously upset, shook his head sadly before looking out over the students once more. This time, Severus didn't quite look away in time.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before they both looked away. Severus, who did not convey one shred of emotion on his face, wondered if he had imagined the new professor's eyes widening, before he had leaned once again toward the Headmaster.

(HP-HP-HP)

"I can't do this, Albus," whispered Harry urgently as soon as the Headmaster seated himself. The students were turning their attention to the food that had just appeared in the wake of Dumbledore's speech.

The older man laughed lightly and turned toward Harry. "Yes, you can. You can and you must."

Harry's stomach clenched painfully. He'd thought he could do it, too, when he'd first arrived, but now he saw that he couldn't. He couldn't be in this room, in this school, in this _time_, surrounded by so many people he knew and loved. People who were dead, who had not survived the war.

"I think I might throw up," Harry whispered, mostly to himself. Dumbledore turned toward him anyway.

"Nonsense," he said. He spooned a helping of potatoes onto Harry's plate and pushed a goblet of wine toward him. "Drink, Professor James. It'll make you feel better. It's a very fine vintage."

Harry took a sip of the dark red wine and tried to relax, but found it nearly impossible to do so. His eyes kept drifting, without his consent, toward the Gryffindor table, toward the messy head of black hair. His father. His father was sitting there, a happy sixth year, oblivious to the fact that his future son was sitting at the staff table, his heart nearly in shreds at the faces swimming before his eyes. Next to James was Sirius – oh, god! Sirius! – with his handsome face and grey eyes, and across the table was tawny-eyed Remus, looking young and relatively happy, with few lines on his face. He ignored the sight of Peter, but could not ignore the young woman sitting a little further down the table, with long red hair and vibrant, brilliant green eyes. Harry's eyes. Harry's mum. Lily.

Harry turned away quickly and gulped his wine. He leaned toward Dumbledore. "You didn't slip a calming draught in this wine by chance, did you?"

Dumbledore glanced at him and Harry tried to school his expression. He could feel his hands shaking. Dumbledore's eyes momentarily lost their twinkle, and for a second the wizard looked very, very old.

"My poor boy," he murmured. "I know you haven't told me all, nor do I wish for you to do so, yet from what you have told me I know that your life has been unfairly burdened. Your time here will undoubtedly be difficult. I just wish I could make it easier for you."

Harry smiled weakly. "Just your presence makes it easier, Albus, and that is no lie."

Dumbledore's eyes regained their twinkle. He turned back to his plate and tucked into his food with gusto. Harry shook his head at the sight, a bit more sadly than he meant to. How he missed Dumbledore. To distract himself, he looked out over the students once more. There were the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and there were the Slytherins. Harry met a pair of black eyes and felt his own eyes widen in shock before he glanced away.

How could he have forgotten about Severus Snape?

Harry waited until he felt that Snape would no longer be looking at him, then chanced another peek at the Slytherin table. There he was, sitting next to a girl with purple hair. He looked lanky even sitting down, and Harry could see how tall he was already, even as he tried to hide it behind hunched shoulders. His black hair, though slightly greasy, was not nearly as bad as it had been when Harry knew him as a professor. In fact, sixteen-year-old Snape's hair appeared almost healthy, though there was a bit too much length to it, making it fall heavily around his shoulders. The nose was hooked, the skin pale, and the eyes glittering black in a way that Harry was long familiar with.

Young Severus Snape was not handsome in the traditional sense, but there was something interesting about him, something that caught the eye and held it. He was not yet the commanding force he had been as an adult, nor did he look quite so dangerous, but it was all there, just beneath the surface.

Harry looked away a moment before Snape tried to meet his eyes again.

He could not do this.

(SS-SS-SS)

"The new professor is looking at you, Sev'rus," said Vendra behind a bite of cauldron cake.

Severus looked at the staff table instantly, but Professor James was staring at his plate, biting his lip. "No, he's not," said Snape.

Vendra swallowed her bite of cake. "Well, he was. Just now before you looked up." She smiled mysteriously. "He seemed quite keen to get a good look at you."

"You're lying," said Snape immediately. Yet he stared at the professor for a moment more, as if trying to find the truth for himself.

"Suit yourself," replied Vendra with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. She grabbed one last cake before the desserts, widely depleted, vanished from the House tables.

Dumbledore was standing again, making his final speech.

"Off to bed," mimicked Vendra under her breath. "Pip pip!"

As Severus and the rest of the Slytherins rose, Professor Slughorn made his way among them to hand out schedules and to make schedules with the sixth years.

"Ah, Mr. Snape!" he bellowed good-naturedly. "You'll wish to continue on with Potions, undoubtedly." He didn't wait for Severus's nod before continuing. "And you'll want Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, I assume?"

"Yes, sir," replied Snape. "I want to drop Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. But I'd like to keep Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy."

"Seven N.E.W.T level classes is quite the load, Mr. Snape," said Slughorn.

"I can handle it, sir," Severus assured him. "I need all of these classes if I wish to become a Potions Master."

Horace Slughorn beamed. "Ah, yes, m'boy, yes, no question about that. You'll do famously." He tapped his wand against the parchment he was holding. Snape's new schedule appeared, and he handed the parchment over. "There you are, m'boy. Ah! Miss Irmandis!" He turned towards Vendra. Before he could get another word out, she snatched the new parchment he was now holding, waved her wand over it, and watched with a satisfied smile as a schedule appeared.

"There!" she said, quite happily.

Slughorn blinked at her, and then patted her affectionately on the head, ruffling her purple hair. With a little sigh he turned around, caught sight of another student, yelled "Pearson!" through the crowd, and left Vendra and Severus alone. They turned from the hall and began the trek down to the Slytherin dorms.

"What're you taking?" asked Severus.

Vendra waved her parchment at him. "Same. I've just swapped out Herbology for Care of Magical Creatures instead."

"Why on earth do you want to take that class?"

Vendra shrugged. "I like animals."

Severus blinked down at his schedule. "We haven't got Defense Against the Dark Arts till Tuesday," he said.

Vendra nodded serenely. "It's going to be a long Monday, look, Potions, Charms, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Yes, but then we'll have Defense first thing on Tuesday," said Severus. "Followed by Herbology for me, Creatures for you, and then Transfiguration after lunch. Well have a bit of a break then, that's good."

Vendra hummed her agreement. They reached the Slytherin Common Room at the same time as several other students. Someone, a prefect, said the password aloud and they all clambered into the Common Room. Severus and Vendra turned toward their favorite armchairs in a corner, but Severus felt hands grasp his upper arms, and was forced to turn around. He had his wand out before he recognized Avery and Wilkes.

"Oh," he said. He glanced sideways at Vendra. She nodded almost imperceptibly and then backed away, leaving the three of them alone.

"What you still hangin' around her for, then?" asked Wilkes slowly. "Not pure, is she? Creature in there somewhere."

"She's a skilled witch," said Severus. He pulled his arms free. "And she's a Slytherin. That's got to count for something."

Wilkes gazed at her retreating figure and sniffed. "Eh, the Dark Lord'll decide, one way or another."

"What's this about?" asked Severus, a tad impatiently.

Avery held out a slip of parchment. Severus took it gingerly, reading the ten potions that were listed. "These are what the Dark Lord wants to be supplied with this term. You are to familiarize yourself with these, and supply them whenever the occasion calls."

Severus looked up. "These potions are difficult. Some of them take months to brew."

Wilkes grinned nastily. "That's yer problem, i'nit?"

Severus scowled. "At least five of these won't last under a stasis charm." He lowered his voice and moved even closer to Avery and Wilkes. "If the Dark Lord requires these on short notice, there's no way I'll have them ready in time for him."

Avery held up a hand. "The Dark Lord will give you fair warning. He has absolute faith in your abilities, Snape, even if he is the only one. Just make sure you have the ingredients on hand, and be prepared to start brewing if the word reaches you."

Severus rolled up the parchment, slipped it up his sleeve, and nodded shortly. "Am I free to go?" he asked.

Wilkes and Avery turned away in reply. They melted into the shadows of the common room, and Vendra melted out of them. She stared after Avery and Wilkes before hurrying towards Severus.

"Severus," she began, but he held up a hand, cutting her off.

"Not here," he warned. He tried to lead her to a quiet corner, but the common room was too full of students trying to catch up with one another after summer holiday. A girl with blond plaits called Vendra's name from the other side of the room, and Severus caught Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier staring at him avidly from the door to the dormitories.

"See you tomorrow, love," said Severus. He kissed Vendra on the forehead and then headed for his two friends. The three of them quickly made their way toward the dormitory that was marked **6****th**** Year Boys**. Their trunks were at the foot of their beds, as always. The enchanted window between Snape's and Rosier's beds showed the moonlit lake.

Severus strode toward his trunk, loosening his tie as he did so.

"That's it, Severus," said Evan. "Take it all off."

Rodolphus laughed as he too loosened his tie.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Pervert," he said. He took off his tie and tossed it to Evan before slipping off his robe to a whistle.

"What do you have first tomorrow?" asked Severus as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Potions," replied Evan and Rodolphus simultaneously.

"Good," said Severus. "Me too."

"Don't have Defense till Tuesday," said Rodolphus. "What do you think of the new professor?"

"He's pretty," purred Evan, his light green eyes alight with laughter.

"Of course you would think that," countered Rodolphus.

"He's powerful," offered Severus. "Very powerful."

Rodolphus nodded seriously. "The aura, right? I felt it, too."

"Does it matter how powerful he is?" asked Evan. He peeled off his own button-up shirt and replaced it with a plain white shirt. "We already know more curses than the rest of the Houses combined. He won't be able to teach us anything we don't know."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Severus. "This guy is different. He seems to personally know Dumbledore. Also, he looks young. He can't be very much older than us."

"And his eyes," said Rodolphus thoughtfully. "His eyes have that look. Like he's seen things."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with a crush," teased Evan as he pulled on black pajama pants and flung himself down on his bed.

"Please tell me we're not going to have to listen to you praise Harry James all year," begged Rodolphus.

Evan smiled lazily. "Only if he does something unworthy of praise."

"So that's a no, then," guessed Severus. He slipped out of his trousers and replaced them with baggy pajama bottoms. "Somehow, I don't think this guy will mess up."

Rodolphus shrugged. "Time will tell."

"Anyway," said Severus, as he pulled back the sheets on his four-poster bed, "we won't find out how powerful Professor James is until Tuesday. Tomorrow we'll have to make do with Slughorn."

Evan snorted and glanced at Rodolphus. "How many minutes do you think it will take before Slughorn is proclaiming Severus' genius to the entire class?"

"Eh, seven," deadpanned Rodolphus, "give or take a few."

Severus scowled. "Please. You both know Slughorn likes Lily Evans more than me."

"Which is ridiculous on his part," snapped Rodolphus. "Encouraging that filthy, unworthy –"

Evan shook his head violently, causing Rodolphus to stop. They both glanced at Severus, who sighed and let his hair fall like a curtain in front of his face.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured. "She's done with me."

Evan crawled onto Severus' bed. "And you should be done with her, mate," he said. "You can do so much better. You know you can." He smiled coyly and sidled closer to Severus. "I'm available."

"Shove off," growled Severus, pushing him away, but there was a grin hidden behind his hair.

"Oh, come on, Severus!" wheedled Evan. "Just one kiss. A tiny one. You won't actually know you don't like it till you try."

Severus pushed him away again. "When I'm ready, I'll let you know."

Evan bounced back to his bed with a triumphant smile. "He said 'when,' not 'if.' When!" He cackled wickedly.

Rodolphus rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, Evan."

Rosier pouted. "You two are no fun at all." He dove under the blankets on his bed, pulling the thick green bedspread up to his chin. He stuck his tongue out childishly at his two friends.

The door to the dormitory opened. Avery and Wilkes strode inside, their appearances cheerful enough. They greeted Severus as if they had not spoken to him earlier.

"Is Evan pouting again?" asked Corvin Avery.

Wilkes smirked. "No need for that," he said, moving toward Evan's bed. "I'll give you a goodnight kiss."

Evan yanked the green blanket up over his head. "Eeewww, gross, Micah! Stay away from me!"

Wilkes laughed and backed off to his own four-poster bed. Avery huffed at the lot of them as he removed his school robes. Severus stood by his bed, watching the others undress and throw articles of clothing at one another. They called it a night after Wilkes threw a shoe at Rodolphus' head and Severus had to physically restrain the younger Lestrange from strangling his dorm mate. Avery forced everyone into bed, put out the lights with a wave of his wand, and demanded silence. Soon, Severus could hear the soft breathing and rumbling snores of his friends.

But he stayed awake for a long time, thinking of green eyes and tousled black hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! Thanks to everyone who read and who added my story as an alert. And a big thank you to Nomercy Sedia and ObliviousToBeautiful for their reviews! You two rock.

Warnings are in chapter two.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. However, he and his friends consented to act in my story for a while. Thanks guys!

Please review!

_italics _= memory

**Chapter 3 - The Face That Launched One Thousand Hexes**

Severus leaned stiffly against the cold stone wall, flanked on either side by Evan and Rodolphus. He kept his head down, eyes lowered, so as not to have to see the antics of Potter and Black as the Sixth Years waited for Potions to begin.

"What an arse," muttered Rodolphus as Sirius Black shot sparks out of his wand and howled like a dog.

"Five points from Gryffindor!" said a huffing voice, and the Sixth Years turned to see Professor Slughorn walking swiftly toward them, his great bulky belly swinging under his robes. "No magic in the corridors, Black."

Evan snickered. Potter and his crew of Gryffindors looked outraged.

"But professor," whined Black. "I wasn't attacking anyone."

Slughorn shook his head and opened the door to the Potions classroom. "Oh, just get in."

Severus pushed away from the wall and slung his school bag over his shoulder. He let Rodolphus and Evan go in first and then made to follow them, but stopped when Potter moved roughly forward, knocking their shoulders together. Severus swung his head around and met Potter's eyes in a glare, a retort ready on his tongue.

Potter smirked and waved a hand. "Ladies first."

Severus reacted on instinct. His fist came up before he could force it to stay down and he punched James Potter right in the jaw.

"Severus!" cried a voice from the crowd of students, and Lily Evans rushed forward, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

She turned to James, and the fury went out of her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Black rushed out of the classroom. "I'll kill him," he yelled, storming right toward Severus.

Rodolphus and Evan intercepted him. "Back off, Black," growled Rodolphus. He let the tip of his wand slide from beneath the sleeve of his robe and hover in the air, threatening curses.

"It's fine," said Potter. He was holding Lily's hand now, a sight that made Severus itch to jump forward and punch him again. "Besides, didn't even hurt." His eyes narrowed maliciously. "Snivellus hits like a girl."

Lily smacked Potter on the arm. "You're horrible," she said, but with no real anger, and she let the Gryffindor boy pull her into the Potions classroom.

Rodolphus and Evan shoved Black in after them and turned to Severus.

"You alright?" asked Evan.

"Fine," Severus growled and stalked inside the classroom. He made his way to his desk, ignoring as best he could the glares of the Gryffindors.

"Fighting already?" asked Slughorn from the front of the room. "Really boys? I'm incredibly disappointed. Potter, Snape, detention for both of you. And five points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Severus stood behind his cauldron with his arms crossed and let his hair hide his face.

Slughorn was obviously flustered by the fighting. He didn't try to impress the sixth years with any of his potions knowledge, nor did he try to bribe them into making perfect potions. He huffed to the front of the room and glared at them all. "Alright," he snapped. "Open your books. We're making the Draught of Living Death today. Get started."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. He'd made Draught of Living Death dozens of times, but he opened his book, _Advanced Potion-Making_, for appearances sake and turned to the correct page. One glance at the instructions told him that this book, like so many others, hadn't yet perfected the art of concocting this particular potion. Still, he gathered the necessary ingredients and lit a fire under his cauldron. Within moments, the classroom filled with the sounds of chopping, cutting, smashing, and stirring, and Severus felt his shoulders relax.

This was where he belonged.

The dungeon room slipped away as his eyes focused entirely on the potion before him. His mind, which he had always valued as his greatest asset, honed in on his ingredients, his cauldron, the liquid therein. He moved his hands precisely, carefully, but with the practiced ease of one well on his way to becoming a master. Every noise stopped, every sight vanished but for his work station. He felt as if he could smell each ingredient individually. He was completely in his element.

Which was why the Dark Lord had chosen him.

Potions. Perhaps the trickiest and most undervalued form of magic. But Severus had it down to an art. He could brew anything. There was something magical about his hands.

"Look here!"

Severus glanced up. Professor Slughorn leaned over his cauldron, his round face gleaming.

"Mr. Snape's potion is perfect, of course!" he said, loudly enough to be heard across the room. "Notice the consistency."

The Gryffindors and even some of the Slytherins rolled their eyes. Severus himself had to keep from staring blandly at Slughorn, who patted him enthusiastically on the shoulder and ambled off to the next work station.

"Pssst!"

Severus looked up just as Evan floated a piece of paper towards him with his wand. Severus plucked it out of the air.

_6 minutes, 55 seconds!_

Severus chucked the slip of paper back at Rosier without looking and glared at his cauldron.

"Ah!" boomed Slughorn once more. "Miss Evans' potion is looking decent as well."

Severus forced himself to keep staring at his work station.

Don't look up.

Don't look up.

Don't look.

Don't.

He glanced up. Lily stood beaming by her cauldron. Her red hair, normally so fiery and bright, looked darker in the dim light of the dungeon classroom. The spattering of freckles across her nose stood out in stark relief against her light skin. James Potter, standing next to her, smiled widely and brushed his hand across her shoulders.

Severus jerked his gaze away. He hunched his shoulders and scowled darkly. He was so focused on not looking up again that he nearly forgot to add a counter-clockwise stir to his potion. His mind dwelled on Lily, and only with the methodical stirring of his potion did silence reenter his ears. He swore not to look at her again. To distract himself, he began crossing out his potions book's faulty instructions and scribbling his own into the margins. Not many people knew to crush the sopophorous beans instead of cutting them, and the eighth counter-clockwise stir was definitely of his design.

At the end of Potions, Slughorn proclaimed his Draught of Living Death perfect. He took quite a few vials, with Severus' permission, and then declared class over. Severus followed Evan and Rodolphus slowly to the door.

"Mr. Snape!"

He looked back. Slughorn frowned sternly at him. "I'll assign you and Mr. Potter" – he threw a look at James – "detention at dinner tonight. So you best show up."

Severus nodded curtly. He had to make it a physical effort not to glance at Potter. Luckily, Rodolphus and Evan noticed his struggle and led him swiftly from the room.

"This is not going to be a good year," Severus muttered as they walked toward the Charms corridor.

Evan looped his arm around Severus' elbow. "You don't know that," he pointed out. "You can't know that, unless you've suddenly developed the All Seeing Eye."

"Oh, please," scoffed Rodolphus.

Severus shook his arm free, but spared a half-smile for Evan. "Potter's going to lord it over me all term," he said, "I can just tell. Now that Lily's talking to him. He's going to be even more unbearable than usual."

"Nothing we can't either ignore or take care of," said Evan optimistically.

"And this book," continued Severus, holding the offending manuscript in front of him by one corner of the front cover. "This book his horrendous. It has the Draught of Living Death all wrong."

Evan snorted. "Again, nothing you can't fix."

Severus stuffed _Advanced Potion-Making _into his bag. "And charms is next," he muttered.

"Ah yes," said Rodolphus, "Miss Evans' best subject. You bloody well can ignore that filthy little witch, Snape."

Severus suppressed a burning retort and breathed deeply through his nose. "Yes, thank you, _Lestrange_, I know I can."

Evan shot Rodolphus an exasperated look.

"And stop giving him looks like I'm not even here," snapped Severus. "Do you want me to stick your eyes so you can only look sideways all day?" He rolled his wand casually between his fingers.

"My goodness," said a new, female voice. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed today boys?"

The three young Slytherins spun and raised their wands, but it was only Vendra, blinking slowly at them and wearing a tiny smile.

"Hello, Vendra," said Severus.

"Severus," she greeted. "You didn't say a word to me in Potions. I'm hurt. Truly."

"Potter's fault," replied Severus promptly.

Vendra's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure." She turned her vivid blue gaze upon Rodolphus and Evan. "And what were the two of you thinking, letting him go after James like that?"

They shrugged uncomfortably.

"Well," said Vendra. "We're all going to be late to Charms if you three don't start walking."

The three boys turned at once and set off, Vendra accompanying them. They arrived at the Charms classroom with a minute to spare, and this time Severus slipped into the seat next to Vendra. She smiled at him.

Charms was boring. Flitwick had them practicing _Aguamenti_, even though Severus had taught it to himself the previous year. To pass the time, he and Vendra experimented with changing the spell to make fountains, waterfalls, and flowing jets of water. As impressive as their displays were, Flitwick was still more taken with Lily, who had managed to create a series of miniature reflecting pools out of the simple charm. Potter's face looked as if it was going to burst, his smile was so big.

Vendra gave him a warning look a moment before Severus coughed into his hand and flicked his wand in Potter's direction. When Potter cast his next _Aguamenti_, the water came out boiling. Unfortunately, Potter was quick to recognize the danger. He easily transfigured the burning stream into several delicate lily pads, and with a flick of his own wand, sent them spiraling down to Lily's pools. She smiled brightly at him. James lifted his shoulders and didn't even give Severus the satisfaction of a glare.

"Don't say it," snapped Severus as Vendra opened her mouth.

She shrugged and went back to spraying water out of her wand.

Severus gripped his own wand tightly. Lunch couldn't come fast enough.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry felt like Mad-Eye Moody. Or, at least, what he imagined Moody must have felt like when he came to teach at Hogwarts during Harry's fourth year. He recalled quite clearly how the entire school had been dying to have class with him, and then having experienced that class, could speak of nothing but the intensity that seemed to hover around Moody like a cloak. Everywhere he turned, Harry felt eyes on him. It wasn't a new feeling for him, but it was a quite different experience than anything that had happened while he was at school.

The students that walked these corridors didn't look at him because he was famous. They didn't look at him because he had defeated Voldemort. They looked at him for different reasons entirely. Harry was a curiosity. A curiosity that only open staring and gaping could make known. Everywhere he walked, students followed him with their eyes. Every corner he turned brought a new clump of whispering children with it. They gawped. They pointed. A few brave souls even opened their mouths to say "hello."

They acted as if they'd never had a new Defense professor before in their lives.

"You'll have to get used to it, of course," said Horace Slughorn at breakfast. "The curiosity will fade away eventually."

Minerva McGonagall, professor of Transfiguration even in this time, suggested that he focus on his lessons to keep his mind off the students. Harry, deciding that it would for once be beneficial to follow the advice of his elders, did just that.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was where it had always been. Harry stood for a while in the center of the room, meditating. He would have third years first thing. Harry fondly remembered his third year at Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin. Lupin had been his favorite professor, and Harry considered taking his approach to third year Defense. With a start, Harry realized that he would at one point have a younger Lupin in class. What would he teach the sixth years and the seventh years? How advanced were they in 1976?

Harry recalled the Pensieve visions of his father's school days. James had already been using advanced spells. Harry would have to come up with something good for his N.E.W.T classes. But as long as he remembered his training, he was confident he would do fine.

"_Auror Potter!" _

_Harry turned. Coming toward him was Kingsley Shacklebolt._

"_Minister," said Harry respectfully. _

_Kingsley rested a warm hand on his shoulder. "Come, son. I have to talk to you about something." _

_Harry followed Kingsley down the winding corridors. The Auror Department, especially the training zone, was a labyrinth. Kingsley walked comfortably, however, and Harry could have made his way through blindfolded. _

"_I've been meaning to make this offer for a while," began Kingsley, "but the time finally feels right." _

_Harry swallowed apprehensively but nodded. _

"_I've talked to your boys, and they all agree," continued Kingsley. "The Head Auror position is yours if you'll accept it." _

_Harry stopped. He looked at Kingsley and blinked. "Head Auror?" _

_The Minister nodded. _

"_I couldn't," said Harry quickly. "I'm much too young, too inex-"_

"_Don't you dare say inexperienced," commanded Kingsley. He turned to face Harry. He stood tall and impressive in the small corridor. "Those men, those Aurors who have trained beside you, they will follow you into battle without thought. They will lay down their lives for you. You are their unspoken leader already. The time has come for it to be official." _

_Harry lowered his head. "I'm honored, sir. I hardly deserve their devotion." _

_Kingsley laughed. "You, of all people, deserve it. You have earned their loyalty and respect. They are yours to the very end." _

Harry smiled wistfully. How he missed Ron and Neville and his band of young Aurors. He remembered what it had meant to him, at twenty-two, to be appointed Head Auror. Suddenly he had been cast into the roles of mentor, teacher, friend, and protector. Luckily, his time with Dumbledore's army had prepared him somewhat, and his uncanny ability to impersonate all the best qualities of both Professor Lupin and Professor Snape while teaching had led to great success in the training of his Aurors.

Maybe if he was lucky, those skills would help him here, too.

Harry glanced around the classroom. He wouldn't decorate it yet. Not until he had a feel for the students. Slowly he made his way to the front of the room and sat down on his desk to await the first class.

(JP-JP-JP)

Dinner was a nightmare. James watched Snape closely while trying to appear as if he wasn't. He joked and talked with Sirius and Remus, but he kept one eye on Snape at all times. The Slytherin, sitting with his back to the wall, kept his arms crossed and his eyes lowered, but James could practically feel the glower coming off of him.

"Will you stop that?"

James looked up. Both Remus and Lily were staring at him. "What?" he asked, while leaning back defensively.

"Stop glaring at Snape," said Remus.

James felt his eyebrows crinkle. "Why?"

"Because the professors are starting to look suspicious," answered Lily. She gestured toward the High Table.

Slughorn, even though he appeared to casually be enjoying his dinner, kept shooting furtive glances between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables.

"He's expecting something," said Lily. "So don't give him another excuse to punish you."

James blinked. "Are you forgetting that Snivellus punched me right in the jaw earlier today?"

"Of course not," said Lily tartly. "But only because you insulted him. Twice. And don't call him that."

"Why not?" asked Sirius. He leaned around James and grabbed a roll. "How's 'Snivellus' any worse than what he calls you?"

Lily sighed. "It means that you're stooping to his level. You call him names and throw hexes at him, but really you're just giving him the pleasure of knowing that he can reduce you to such childish behavior."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't get it. 'Snivellus' works just fine for me."

James just shrugged when Lily looked at him.

She tossed her red hair over one shoulder and stood up. "Fine. I'm done. I'll see you all up in the Common Room."

Peter leaned in from his place next to Remus and put his elbows on the table. "What's up with her?"

James wasn't listening. He watched Lily walk from the hall, her hair streaming behind her, and noticed another pair of eyes following her progress as well. "That's it," he fumed. He flicked his wand discreetly toward the Slytherin table, counted to five, and then turned away just as Snape's soup exploded up into his face.

Sirius snorted as the Slytherin table erupted into yells. Across the hall, students backed away from their own bowls of soup, worried that a similar explosion might occur. But Snape, his hair dripping, stared straight at the Gryffindor table. A moment later, a pile of rolls attacked James' face.

"Immobulus," said Remus quite calmly, and the rolls instantly ceased their furious battle. The damage, however, had been done.

Slughorn and McGonagall stormed from the High Table, the former swaying behind his large girth, the latter seeming to grow taller with each step she took.

"Snape!" bellowed Slughorn. "Outside."

"Potter," said McGonagall as she passed the Gryffindors. "With me."

Sirius gave him a sympathetic pat on the back as James stood and began following McGonagall from the room. They stopped just outside the doors to the Great Hall. Slughorn and McGonagall shared a silent look, and then turned on the two Sixth Years.

"Detention for a week, then," began McGonagall. "For both of you."

"Really, boys," said Slughorn, his breath puffing out angrily. "So much fighting in one day. I'm incredibly disappointed."

James tried to look contrite. McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him. "You're with me, Potter. Myrtle has flooded the girl's lavatory again. I'll supervise as you clean it up. No magic."

James bit his tongue to hold back an immediate retort. McGonagall seemed to notice. "I expected better of a Hogwarts Prefect," she said.

"Alright, professor," said James, as a hot wave of shame flooded his belly, "you've officially made me feel bad."

McGonagall nodded. She began to walk away and James followed, though not before he heard Slughorn assign cleanup of the Quidditch Pitch to Snape.

"Why does he get the good detention?" asked James as they walked.

McGonagall peered sideways at him. "It's punishment, Potter. Even cleaning a mess out on the Pitch wouldn't be punishment to you. But it is to Snape."

She began striding quickly ahead, and James held his tongue as he hurried to keep up.

(HP-HP-HP)

Voices issued from the staff room as Harry hesitantly pushed open the door. The cool brass of the handle felt strange under his fingers, forbidden, as if he had no right to be seeking entrance there. As Head Auror, not many doors had been closed to him. This one wasn't. But Harry felt strongly out of place. He wasn't Head Auror here at Hogwarts. He was a professor, a post he had never envisioned for himself. Harry half expected some sort of obstacle to spring up in his way once the door to the staff room opened fully, but no such obstacle appeared. Harry stepped inside, a grin forming on his lips. It was the grin he used when he didn't want to face any questions, the one he'd been told was distracting and disarming. He turned the full force of that grin on the two professors inside.

It worked.

Horace Slughorn beamed at him. "Harry, m'boy!" he cried jovially. "I see you've survived your first day."

Harry let his breezy grin speak for him as he closed the door and dropped into a vacant chair.

Minerva McGonagall peered sternly at him over the tops of her spectacles, but the corners of her mouth pointed upwards, not down. "It would seem you've made quite an impression, Harry. They're talking about you in the corridors already."

Harry felt his smile drop slightly.

Minerva nodded thoughtfully. "I see you've noticed the attention."

Harry forcefully persuaded the smile back onto his lips. "I've never been one for the spotlight," he admitted. "Makes me somewhat uncomfortable."

"So modest!" boomed Horace. He smiled at Harry as if he were a prized possession.

"Yes," said Minerva flatly. "Now if only I could borrow some of that modesty and shove it down Potter's throat."

"Potter?" asked Harry before he could stop himself.

"Sixth Year Gryffindor Prefect," answered McGonagall. "He's lost a barrel of points already, and he's earned himself detention for the entire week." She shot Slughorn a look.

He held up his hands. "Mr. Snape has an equal amount of detentions. Slytherin is suffering, too."

"Snape?" asked Harry. He bit the inside of his cheek. Now all he needed was mention of Lupin or his mum and all of his ghosts would be present.

"He and Potter were fighting again, the louts," said Horace in a conspiratorial whisper.

Harry tilted his head and tried to look curious. "Is that so? I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting either of them yet."

"Bitter rivals, those two," announced Minerva. "I'm positive they could get on just fine with ignoring one another if it weren't for Lily Evans."

Harry, not quite able to bring himself to repeat the name, raised an eyebrow.

Slughorn answered his unspoken question. "Like Helen of Troy, Lily Evans is the face that launched one thousand hexes."

Minerva snorted. "If you ask me, those boys should leave that poor girl alone."

Harry smiled faintly.

"Well," said Slughorn. "You'll meet all of them in class tomorrow. Good luck, m'boy."

Harry straightened up. He could do this. He could.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again, everyone! Thanks so much to all continuing and new readers. I love you all! Thank you to Hachichiyyin, Yukirat, Tif S., Nomercy Sedia, ObliviousToBeautiful, and SilverMidnightKitten for your reviews! You all made my day.

Nomercy Sedia: Hopefully some of your questions about Harry are answered in this chapter. A lot of the information I use for him comes from The Harry Potter Lexicon, which they, in turn, get from Rowling or other reliable sources. They say that Kingsley offered Harry an Auror position immediately after school. Some time in the future, he becomes Head Auror. I don't know when exactly, so I made up an age for the purposes of this story.

Warnings: in the second chapter.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling.

On to the chapter! Please review!

**The Best Defense**

Harry sat on his desk with his eyes closed as the Sixth Years trickled into the room. He breathed deeply through his nose, meditating the way Healer Orion had taught him after a nasty injury his first year with the Aurors. In this state, Harry was able to relax fully enough to empty his mind the way Snape had tried to teach him all those years ago. Focusing solely on his breathing, and with his vision gone, Harry could hear things he wouldn't have normally.

As the students entered the room, he could hear their whispers of curiosity. He could feel the shifts in the air as they turned their heads to stare. He listened to the measured footsteps of those who didn't care that he was meditating on his desk, the faltering steps of those who were caught off guard, and the steps that stopped altogether soon after entering the room.

"Take your seats," said Harry calmly. He smiled slightly as the footsteps hastened in all directions and bodies dropped quickly into empty chairs. Once all sounds ceased, Harry counted slowly to ten and then opened his eyes.

Many pairs of eyes, of all shapes and colors, stared back at him. Harry noticed James Potter first. He sat near the front with Sirius and Remus on either side of him. Remus was openly curious. He sat straight in his chair, his hands folded on top of his desk, anticipating the start of the lesson. James and Sirius both stared at Harry, and though Harry could read the interest in their eyes, he could also see that the pair was trying to disguise it as casual disinterest. Lily Evans sat a few seats down from Lupin. She wore much the same air as the young werewolf. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were gathered in the center of the classroom, while the Slytherins sat as far away from the Gryffindors as they could get. Harry spotted Snape immediately. He sat between two other boys, one tall with dark hair, the other shorter and lean, with lighter hair. After a moment, Harry recognized them as Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier. A small witch in the front caught his attention. She had vivid purple hair and definite creature characteristics – fey, possibly? Harry wasn't sure.

He stared quietly at the students until they began to shift uncomfortably. Even then, he kept staring. Almost without thought, Harry cast several nonverbal _Legilimens _around the room. His eyes flickered rapidly from side to side as memories and thoughts filled his mind.

Harry stood up. "Your minds are weak," he began, his voice steady, measured, but projected in such a way that demanded the attention of everyone in the room.

The students blinked in confusion. Some straightened in their chairs, offended though they knew not why. Others leaned toward their neighbors in question. Already Harry could hear their doubtful and mistrustful thoughts. Looking around the room, he could sense the power in each individual. As a collective, they were one of the brightest and most gifted generations to pass through Hogwarts. Harry was surprised at the shambles that were their minds.

He glanced at Snape. The young Slytherin was staring avidly at him, his mind just as open to Harry's probing as every other. He had none of the adult Snape's control, and only the barest of shields to protect his secrets.

_How will he survive Voldemort like this? _thought Harry. _How will any of them survive? _

Suddenly, he knew what he needed to do.

"The best defense you have," said Harry, "begins with the mind." He walked over to a window and stood looking out with his arms crossed behind his back. He could feel every pair of eyes on him as if they left invisible fingerprints. "If you control your mind, then you control everything you do."

He turned to survey the room again. The students appeared appropriately speculative. One young Ravenclaw in the back, whose thoughts projected quite clearly, confidently reassured himself that he was already in complete control of everything he did. Harry felt his lips quirk upwards.

"You, there in the back," said Harry, pointing to the Ravenclaw. "Mr. Crown, is it?"

The boy nodded jerkily, clearly startled that Harry knew his name.

"You know a vast amount of spells, Mr. Crown," Harry continued.

Alexander Crown's chest puffed up in pride.

"Would you care to help me with a small demonstration?"

Crown stood up slowly. He was as proud as any Ravenclaw of his knowledge, and confident in his abilities, yet wary of the new professor and what might be expected of him.

"Come up, come up," said Harry, gesturing to the front of the room. He smiled openly and relaxed his shoulders so that Crown would feel more at ease. "Now, you've been taught to duel, yes?"

Crown nodded.

"Good," Harry said. He took out his wand and stood several paces away from the Ravenclaw. "Do you know any nonverbal spells?"

"Yes," said Crown, proud once again.

"Even better," admitted Harry. "I want you to attack me, as quickly and as suddenly as you are able, with a nonverbal spell. Alright? You are to give me no warning."

Crown looked very hesitant now, but he gripped his wand tightly and nodded all the same.

Harry stood very still opposite him, his wand held loosely at his side. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Crown."

The boy's thoughts were like an open book. Harry didn't even need to sift through them to find that Crown planned on throwing an _Expelliarmus _first. Before the light had left the tip of Crown's wand, Harry had a shield raised. The surprise was evident on Crown's face, but he faltered for only a moment. He cast a simple Jelly-Legs Jinx next, but Harry, having seen it coming, reversed it easily. Crown frowned. Harry received a mental image of a school bag hitting him in the back of the head a moment before Crown tried levitating one toward him. Harry spun and froze the bag in midair.

Crown let his hands fall. He looked at Harry with his mouth slightly open.

"Now," said Harry, turning to face the rest of the class. "How did I do that? Mr. Crown betrayed nothing in his face or with his voice. So how did I know what he was going to do before he did it?"

He hadn't lacked any student's attention at the beginning of class. But he had earned that attention now. Every eye was trained on him. Every Sixth Year sat straight up and leaning forward.

Harry smiled. "You may take your seat now, Mr. Crown. Thank you for your help."

Alexander walked slowly back to his chair. "How did you do it, sir?" he asked.

Harry thought for a moment. Although he had learned the uses of Legilimency, it was not a spell he cared to teach. These students were too young and too inexperienced. Many of them, if taught, would misuse it. Some of them, and here Harry's eyes strayed to the Slytherin side of the room, could not learn it no matter what. He glanced once more at Snape. Severus would have to learn, of course, but not in the company of others.

"Sir?" repeated Crown.

"You have very little control over your mind, Mr. Crown," said Harry. The boy blushed and looked down. "It is nothing to be ashamed of," Harry added quickly. "Your peers are equally as defenseless."

The students shifted. Many of them looked offended.

"If you do not have control of your mind," Harry reiterated, "then you have control of nothing."

He let his words sink in. Slowly he walked toward the front of the room and sat again on top of his desk.

"There is a form of meditation, used by many Healers, that focuses the breath within the body," said Harry. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to demonstrate. "Try it now. Think of your chest moving, of your heart pumping blood, of your breath going in and out. Remember that this – breathing – is what keeps you alive."

He did not have to open his eyes to know that everyone had done as they were told. All eyes were closed. Throughout the room, breathing slowed, became steady and quiet.

"Focus on your breath," said Harry. "Your heartbeat. Nothing more."

For the rest of the class period, he had the Sixth Years do nothing but sit quietly and breathe. He tried not to look, but his eyes strayed again and again to the forms of his mother and father. They were so young, so different than when Harry had seen them last, in the Forbidden Forest, with the Resurrection Stone. But they were still his. His family. And they were alive. James, Lily, Sirius and Remus. They were all alive. It hurt to look at them. The end of class could not come soon enough.

Finally, as the students began to leave, Harry spoke. "Tonight, before you go to bed, I want you all to look through your memories. Find the one in which you felt protected, and secure. Go to sleep thinking about that safety. Remember, the best defense starts with your mind. Without it, you will only ever have weak magical foundations."

There, he thought that was suitably dramatic. The students left silently. Some of them cast him strange looks as they streamed out. Harry sat on his desk, watching them all with a wistful smile.

(SS-SS-SS)

"Well that was bizarre, wasn't it?" asked Evan as soon as they were a safe distance from the Defense classroom. "Not at all what I expected."

"It was impressive, is what it was," said Rodolphus. "What did you think, Severus?"

Severus remained silent, though he did agree. The class had been fascinating, and the professor even more so. Up close, Harry James was quite different than how he had appeared at the feast two days ago. He was actually rather short for a man of his age, though his mere magical presence made up for that. Physically, he was on the skinny side, though quite lean. His face was all masculine angles, and his eyes, up close, were incredibly distracting. They were very green, much like Lily's, and rather the same shape as well. It was a pity they were hidden behind glasses. Professor James's hair, black and sticking up in every direction, only half concealed a faint, strange scar on his forehead.

"He's good," said Severus finally. "Really good. And what he did with Crown, that was nothing for him, you could tell. It was play. I'm surprised no one seems to know who he is."

Rodolphus nodded. "I was wondering the same thing." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "If the Dark Lord knew he existed, don't you think he would have approached him already?"

Severus put a finger to his lips. When he spoke, his voice was an even softer whisper. "Who's to say the Dark Lord hasn't approached him?"

Evan looked startled. "You mean to say that he could already be working for the Dark Lord?"

Severus shrugged. "Possibly. But I don't know. I don't think so. Somebody would know something, if that were the case. But Harry James is completely anonymous. No one knows anything about him."

"How do you think he did that?" asked Rodolphus after a minute of silence. "It was almost like, I don't know, like he was reading Crown's mind, or something."

Severus shook his head. "I have no idea," he admitted. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "But I'm going to find out."

Rodolphus nodded as if he expected nothing less, and Evan smiled proudly.

"Of course you are," said a new voice, and Vendra came up beside him. "Can I have a word, Severus?"

He motioned for Evan and Rodolphus to go on ahead. Vendra took his hand and looked up at him as they walked.

"I really don't think you should get involved with Professor James," she said.

Severus glanced at her before looking ahead. "What do you mean, 'involved?'"

Vendra huffed in annoyance. "Don't mess with him. Don't try to figure out all of his secrets."

She seemed quite serious, so Severus stopped and turned to face her. "Why?"

Vendra shook her head. "Didn't you see his eyes? When he dismissed class?"

"I thought I did," said Severus slowly. "But you must have seen something different. What is it?"

"There were tears in his eyes," said Vendra. "He was barely holding them in. You really didn't notice?"

Severus shrugged helplessly. He thought back, but he couldn't remember seeing the wet sheen of tears.

"He's in pain, Severus," Vendra continued. "So much pain." For a moment, her eyes glazed, and she appeared very far away. But then her gaze blazed in Severus's direction. "Don't take advantage of that pain. It would be a bad idea."

Severus held up his one free hand. Vendra clung tightly to the other. "I have no intention of taking advantage. I'm not going to hurt him."

Vendra tilted her head. She smiled crookedly. "I never said it was him I was worried about."

(HP-HP-HP)

"Occlumency?"

Harry nodded. He told himself to relax, but it was difficult. The Headmaster's office was entirely too familiar, and Harry felt entirely too much like a student again. Confronted with those twinkling blue eyes, it was hard to forget the many meetings he and Dumbledore had had in this very office. That, and Fawkes had come to rest on his knees the moment he sat down. The phoenix hummed quietly and stared at Harry as if he knew exactly who he was, in this time as well as any other. It was disconcerting, even though the phoenix's presence was warm and inviting.

"It's quite interesting," said Dumbledore. "How did they take it?"

"Well, I believe," said Harry. He smiled. "At least, none of them protested when I had them do nothing but meditate for an hour."

"The curiosity of the new professor," agreed Dumbledore. He brought his fingers together on top of his desk. "And you believe this is necessary?"

"I do," said Harry. "They have to learn."

Dumbledore stood and moved toward a window. He stared out at the lush green grounds of the castle. "Yes, I suppose they do."

"There's a war coming, Albus," said Harry. "I can help them."

Dumbledore looked at him, considering. "You'll turn them into soldiers."

Harry's lips thinned. "It's unfortunate, but yes. It must be done."

"Inevitability," sighed Dumbledore. "I know. I've known for quite some time. Still, Occlumency…"

"I'm not introducing it to them as such," Harry said. "I don't know if it's safe to say what it actually is in front of some of them." He thought briefly of Rosier and Lestrange, and Avery and Wilkes. "All they know is that I'm teaching a form of meditation that will help them achieve greater magical control."

Dumbledore remained thoughtfully silent. Harry shifted in his chair. Fawkes, sensing his restlessness, launched himself gracefully from Harry's knees, circled Dumbledore, and came to rest on his perch. Harry stood and moved to stand beside the Headmaster at the window.

"You remind me of someone, you know," said Dumbledore musingly. "A student."

Harry nodded. He had expected the similarity between James and himself to be brought up at some point.

"His name was Tom Riddle," continued Dumbledore with a tiny smile, as if he knew it was not what Harry expected to hear.

Harry tried not to look surprised. But he could not hide fast enough the way his eyes turned to slits.

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "I see you are familiar with the name." He tugged gently on the end of his long beard. "What an interesting young man you are."

Harry looked calmly at Dumbledore. "I've been fighting people like him my whole life, Albus. It's why I was recruited into the Aurors so young. It's why I was given a position of authority so young. And it's why, though I am still just twenty-five, you trusted that I was capable of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and let his fingers brush briefly against the lightning bolt scar, faint now, but an ever-present reminder.

"Any similarities you see, professor," said Harry, as reassuringly as he could, "are wiped clean by the choices I have made, all very different than those of Tom Riddle."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "Very wise words."

Harry smiled gently. "Spoken to me by a very wise man, once, long ago."

The two men fell silent. A note of phoenix song rang clear and steady through the air.


	5. Chapter 5

Yay! New chapter. I love this one, so I hope you all enjoy. Thanks to Yukirat, Chelsey Hirsch, and Nomercy Sedia for reviewing! I seriously love you guys. And for everyone else, thanks so much for reading! Leave me a quick note. It won't take long, and it will boost my enthusiasm for writing.

Small edit: For the purposes of my story, Harry became Head Auror at 22. He is now 25. In reality (or, at least according to HP Lexicon), Harry became Head Auror at 27. So just bear with the age difference in my story.

Warnings: There is some very brief, very tame, boy-on-boy in this chapter.

Also, some of the aspects of Harry's Legilimency might make more sense if you read my one-shot "Impressions." I'm going to try to bring some of the info in that one-shot into this story, but I don't know when it will happen. So if you want this chapter and Harry in general to make more sense, go read "Impressions."

_italics _= memory

Onto the chapter! Please. Review.

**Chapter 5 – Wolf to Wolf**

Out of all the magnificent rooms, passages, corridors, and grounds that Hogwarts boasted, Remus Lupin found none more magical than the Gryffindor Common Room. His favorite spot inside the Common Room was a window seat. Loaded with cushions and pillows, it was comfortable, light, and offered an ideal vantage point of his favorite part of the castle. From his seat by the window, surrounded by warm red and gold, Remus could watch his housemates and friends. Here, he was most comfortable. Here, he was home.

It was surprising him, therefore, that he was having such trouble with Professor James' meditation exercise.

He had gone to bed the previous night thinking of the Gryffindor Common Room. In his mind he had pictured Sirius, reclining alone on a couch meant for four, repelling those who would sit next to him with lazy flicks of his fingers and sharp gray eyes. He had imagined Lily as she sat cross-legged on the floor, working on three essays at once, pretending to ignore James as he flitted about the Common Room, transfiguring quills into sticks and bribing Third Years to look up Potions facts for him. He had remembered with immense gratitude the night that James, Sirius and Peter had told him their plan to become Animagi. These people were his family. With them, he was safe. And in the Gryffindor Common Room, he was secure.

But when he closed his eyes at night, he saw the moon. Clear, bright and beautiful, it eclipsed every moment of security and every instance in which Remus felt safe. As much as he tried to close his mind to the moon, it was a light from which he could not hide.

As the Gryffindors marched down to breakfast on Wednesday morning, Remus tried not to let his insecurity show.

"Well," said James as they neared the Great Hall. "I slept like a baby. That breathing thing really works."

"Yeah, who knew?" agreed Sirius. "I still don't see what meditation has to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I'll hand it to Professor James. The guy knows how to assign nice, peaceful homework."

"I think you're rather missing the point," countered Lily. She walked next to James today and the secretive looks he cast in her direction made Remus smile. "It's not about sleeping well, though that is a pleasant side effect. It's about focusing your mind."

Sirius shrugged. "But to what end?"

"Greater physical and magical control," cut in Remus. "I imagine that focusing your mind into a complete sense of security will allow for a more perfect channel through which to move your magic."

Remus blushed as Sirius bumped his shoulder playfully. "Always with the academic answer," Sirius teased. "But you have to admit, it makes for a great night of sleep. Am I right?"

"Absolutely," chimed James and Peter together.

Remus just smiled, but when Sirius gently grasped his elbow and held him back, he knew he hadn't fooled him. He never fooled Sirius.

"We'll catch up," said Sirius to the others. He pulled Remus into a small alcove to the side of the Great Hall.

"Okay," he began. "What's wrong?"

Remus crossed his arms, reluctant to say anything. "I had a hard time with the meditation," he finally admitted.

Sirius looked confused. "But, Remus," he said. "You're good at everything."

Remus shook his head. "Not everything."

"What is this really about?"

Remus tried to smile. "It's just hard for me to feel completely safe and secure when I look out the window every night and see the moon."

Sirius didn't smile. "Remus…" he began.

"Don't feel sorry for me," said Lupin quickly. "It's fine. It'll just be more of a challenge for me, that's all." He forced himself to look cheerful. "Come on. Don't want to miss breakfast."

And before Sirius could stop him, he strode into the Great Hall and sat down next to Lily. He stole a piece of toast off her plate and she retaliated by turning his pumpkin juice into milk. He did not glance at Sirius, who he could feel looking in his direction.

Sometimes, his friends worried about him a little too much.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus spent all of breakfast staring at Professor James.

The only problem was, Professor James never once glanced in his direction. He always seemed preoccupied with other things. Talking to Dumbledore, talking to Slughorn, talking to McGonagall. The other professors loved him. Severus could tell by the way their eyes lit up whenever Professor James turned towards them.

Severus didn't think his own eyes would light up, but he would not have objected if Professor James had deigned to turn towards him as well.

As it was, Severus was left wanting. Dissatisfaction curled in his belly like smoke, thick and bitter. Despite Vendra's warning, he found himself intensely curious about Professor James' ability to read minds. Or maybe 'read' was the wrong word. He had never explicitly stated that he could read minds. Then again, he hadn't implied the opposite either. Whatever Professor James could do, it was a mystery. Severus hated mysteries, but he had to admit that this was one puzzle he looked forward to solving.

The library awaited him. In the library, he could begin to piece together this puzzle. He decided to start before Potions. His walk to the library, however, was cut short when an imposing eagle owl swept down in front of him. Severus stopped walking. Mail had been delivered at breakfast as usual, so to see an owl now, in a corridor, was strange and quite rare. The owl dropped a rolled and sealed piece of parchment at his feet and took off again with a great flap of his wings.

Severus bent down and scooped up the letter. He felt something sharp and tingly run through his body when his fingers touched parchment, and he knew his magical signature was being tested. When the pins and needles disappeared from his flesh, the parchment slowly unrolled of its own accord. Severus retreated to a shadowy corner and read with hooded eyes.

'Severus,

I require a batch of Polyjuice Potion.

The owl will be made available to you when the potion is complete.'

Severus swallowed thickly. The letter had no signature, but it didn't need one. The long, sharp handwriting was perfectly identifiable. The Dark Lord. He barely ever addressed personal letters to Severus, typically choosing to delegate the task to a lower Death Eater. This must be important indeed, if the Dark Lord himself saw fit to personally write to Severus. Severus carefully rolled the letter and tucked it inside his bag. He would dispose of it later. Leaving his solitary corner, Severus headed back the way he had come. The library would have to wait.

On his way back down the main staircase, he bumped into Lupin. The Gryffindor seemed completely unaware of the contact, even when Severus turned and growled, "Watch where you're walking, Lupin."

The other boy simply waved a hand, mumbled a quick "Sorry," and continued on up the stairs. Severus, who was also distracted, let it go without much thought. He hurried to the corridor that would bring him to the dungeons. Severus knew off hand that he had most of the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion in his personal stores. He needed the boomslang skin fresh, however, and he would have to pick the fluxweed at the next full moon. Before he could worry about those, though, he headed back to the Slytherin dormitories. One of the best parts about being a Slytherin was the lack of questions from fellow housemates. There was probably no place safer in the castle for brewing such a controversial potion than his very own dormitory.

The Common Room was nearly empty when Severus spoke the password and entered. Most of the students were at breakfast or heading off to their first classes. Severus himself was due at Potions in a mere half hour. With that thought in mind, he hurried to his dorm and immediately set up his personal pewter cauldron on the floor next to his bed. A wave of his wand, a quick rummage through his potions stores, and the lacewing flies were stewing. His friends, he knew, would say nothing of the potion. Nor would they tamper with it. Each of them would know, without being told, who the potion was for.

By the time Severus left the dungeons, there were no more stragglers remaining in the Slytherin Common Room. He knew he was running low on time, but he still hurtled up several flights of stairs to reach the Astronomy Tower, which was decorated with numerous star charts, lunar cycles, and diagrams of solar systems. Severus found the chart he was looking for – a lunar calendar. The next full moon was in a mere five days. Perfect. With this information stored away, Severus raced back down to the dungeons and slid into his seat in Potions just as Professor Slughorn entered the room.

Rodolphus and Evan looked at him, obvious questions in their eyes, but Severus just shook his head and mouthed "Later."

Potions was dull. Professor Slughorn had the Sixth Years researching Everlasting Elixirs, which Severus had made successfully on more than one occasion. Once again, _Advanced-Potion Making _had the ingredients and directions just slightly wrong. Severus spent his time scratching out faulty instructions and adding his own notes. He snorted when he came to step five of the potion, which called for a temporary stasis charm. Didn't anyone realize that a stasis charm on an Everlasting Elixir was pointless?

Severus packed up his bag slowly when class was over. He was the last person out of the room, and after a quick glance around the corridor to ensure it was empty, he strolled casually toward Slughorn's potions store cupboard. He needed boomslang skin. Severus unlocked the door to the small room with a simple _Alohomora_. Slughorn was never as careful as he should be. Inside, Severus took his time looking around. There were bottles of ingredients everywhere, but there were also dried plants hanging from hooks on the ceiling, and also some fresh plants growing in pots on the floor. He spotted the boomslang skin just as Professor Slughorn himself came into the room.

"Mr. Snape!" he cried. "What are you doing in here?"

Severus turned and raised his wand. "Imperio," he chanted, his voice strong and steady. Slughorn's face slackened, his eyes turned glassy.

When Severus had first tried to teach himself the Imperius Curse, it hadn't been as easy as it was now. Each casting drained him of energy and strength, and he found that his will was never easily inserted into his victim. Often, in the beginning, it was an intense internal struggle to make the commands and orders leave him and enter the victim, a ripping away of magic that left Severus weak and breathless. Now, however, it was simple. With maturity and practice, this Unforgivable had become increasingly easy. He could cast it almost without a second thought.

"Hello, professor," said Severus quietly. "I was very glad to hear you wished to give me a jar of boomslang skin."

"Yes," said Slughorn dreamily. "Anything for you, Mr. Snape." He moved forward and climbed the ladder so that he could reach the top shelves. His stubby fingers fumbled for the boomslang skin, caught hold of the jar, and passed it down to Severus. Slughorn ambled down the ladder and stood beaming before his student.

"Thank you, professor," said Snape.

Sometimes, he wished he didn't have to resort to the use of the Imperius Curse. But Severus possessed no false vanity. He knew he was not handsome. His body was too tall and lanky, and his face lacked the attractiveness that Slughorn found pleasing in other boys. Severus would always be the best at Potions, but he would never be the type of student that Slughorn wanted in his collection. What he lacked in beauty, however, he made up for in brains. He had his mind, his potions, and his Dark Arts. They would never fail him.

Raising his wand again, and focusing on Slughorn's lax face, Severus whispered, "Obliviate."

He left the potions store cupboard, boomslang skin safely in his bag. Later, when Slughorn came to, he would remember only that he needed to restock his potions supplies. Severus smiled as he made his way up to Charms, a cruel little twist of lips that matched the heady feeling of power racing through his body.

(RL-RL-RL)

Remus skipped lunch when he noticed that Professor James was not at the High Table. He made an excuse to his friends that he later could not remember, and made his way up to the corridor that housed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and Professor James' office. He approached the door hesitantly, but when he knocked, it was with confidence.

"Come in," rang out a masculine voice almost even before he had finished knocking.

Remus pushed the door open. The professor's office was not extravagantly decorated like some of the others Remus had been in. There was little more than a desk and some chairs, though enchanted candles, like the ones in the Great Hall, floated in the air, providing soft golden light.

"Mr. Lupin," said Professor James. "Have a seat."

Remus sat. Professor James had books and papers spread before him on his desk, and an untouched sandwich and goblet of pumpkin juice. He had been holding a quill when Remus walked in, but he set it down now and folded his hands atop the desk. He looked at Remus as if he had nothing else in the world to do but listen to whatever it was Remus had come to say. That made Lupin swallow nervously. Professor James, up close, had vibrant green eyes, which when focused on Remus, made him feel like he was the only person in the world. That sort of attention made him slightly nervous. Professor James, perhaps sensing this, smiled softly and leaned back in his chair. The distance helped Remus relax.

"How can I help you, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus suddenly felt very childish. He looked down at his hands in his lap. His reasons for coming seemed invalid and of little importance.

"I thought you might have a difficult time with the meditation," said Professor James into the silence.

Remus' head snapped up. "How did you know?"

Professor James shrugged. "One of my mentors once called it 'natural empathy.' Another called it an unnatural talent for knowing things I shouldn't." He laughed lightly. "Whatever you call it, I would think people would be happy to know they don't have to explain their problems to me. I'm always surprised when that proves not to be the case."

Remus smiled. The professor's laughter and easy attitude made him feel more comfortable. "I'm not upset," he said. "I just wasn't sure what to say. I don't often struggle with things like this."

"I completely understand," responded Professor James. "I had actually guessed that this might not be easy for you." He paused, and then added very carefully, "The full moon is soon, yes?"

Remus froze. Fear rippled like liquid up his legs and arms, spiked in his stomach, and left something tangy and acrid on his tongue. He could not meet Professor James' eyes. He could not shift his eyes away from the rough surface of the desk in front of him. Professor James rose, and Remus felt his fingers flex and the muscles of his legs tighten. His instincts were screaming at him to flee, but it was as if he had grown roots.

Professor James came around to his chair. He made no move other than to drop to his knees next to Remus. When he spoke, it was slow and measured, as if to a frightened animal. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. Please forgive me and trust that I mean no harm."

Remus felt his throat working reflexively. For a moment, he couldn't decide if he wanted to speak or vomit. "How did you know?" he finally whispered. His voice came out hoarse.

"It's that blasted talent again," replied the professor. "I'm always knowing things I shouldn't. Also, I was made aware of your condition by Headmaster Dumbledore when I accepted the position of Defense professor."

Remus was so startled he laughed. He wiped a hand tiredly across his eyes. "Of course," he murmured. "Of course. I should have realized –"

"Its fine," Professor James interrupted. "I shouldn't have just brought it out into the open like that." He laughed again, that light, easy laugh that made Remus relax. "Tact has never been one of my strong suits."

Professor James called for tea and chocolate. A squeaky house elf delivered the items almost immediately, and as Remus sipped tea and munched chocolate, he found himself feeling much better.

"I learned to produce a corporeal Patronus at the age of thirteen," said Professor James after a while. "Can you guess why, Mr. Lupin?"

"To ward off Dementors," replied Remus immediately.

"Exactly," said Professor James. "To ward off Dementors. You see, Mr. Lupin, Dementors affect me very strongly. Without a corporeal Patronus, I will completely black out within mere moments of coming into contact with a Dementor." He smiled sheepishly. "It's actually quite embarrassing."

"But that's nothing to be ashamed of," countered Remus. "And to have learned the Patronus so young! That shows incredible strength."

"My point precisely," said the professor. "Those of us who are strongest" – Remus somehow knew that the professor was including him in that statement – "are often also the most vulnerable."

Remus nodded slowly. "Strength and vulnerability. Two extremes."

Professor James also nodded. "You are a werewolf, an incredibly strong magical being. During your transformation, you possess a power and strength that is unparalleled by human wizards. Yet, during your transformation, you are also at your weakest. You lack your human mind and reasoning. But with careful skill and concentration, you can learn to focus your energy, and control that aspect of your nature which leaves you vulnerable. Do you see?"

Remus felt a sense of understanding well up within him. "I think I do. What you're saying is, my weakness isn't a weakness at all. Not really."

"It is a fear that you are capable of overcoming," said Professor James. "You have the nature of a wolf, Mr. Lupin. You focus too heavily on the negative aspects of that nature, and forget that there are positives as well. Loyalty. Bravery. Love."

Remus simply stared at his professor. He could not speak.

"Next time you try meditating," said Professor James. "Think not of the moon. Think of your pack. Your friends. Wolves are not solitary. You are surrounded by people who love you. And guess what, Mr. Lupin? You are not the only one safe within their company. Have you ever considered that you protect them, as well?"

Remus swallowed thickly. "You sound like you've given this speech before."

Professor James' eyes twinkled. "I actually had it given to me, once. It sort of stuck."

"Yes," said Remus. "I can see why." He stood. "I have Transfiguration. But thank you, professor. Truly."

Professor James saw him out. "My door is always open, Mr. Lupin. Always."

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry watched Lupin disappear down the corridor. The young Remus was insecure in a way that the adult Remus had not been, but Harry sensed the strong will, the independent nature, and the deep love and loyalty that had made him such a wonderful mentor, teacher, and friend. Harry had tried to move beyond the deaths of the War, but seeing Lupin, who he had been so close to in life, made his heart ache.

"_It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live." _

Harry straightened his shoulders with resolve. He would not let these Sixth Years get under his skin. He could help them in the here and now, and that was all he needed to worry about. Besides, the conversation with Lupin had reminded him of more than just his ghosts.

"_And how are we today, my little wolf?"_

_Harry looked up as Healer Orion came into the room. "I wish you wouldn't call me that," he said. _

_Jules Orion laughed. Harry liked his laugh. He liked the way Jules tossed his head back, how his curly, sandy hair swayed, how his throat was bared and curved. Of course, he liked the sound of the laugh, too. _

_Harry was nineteen. He had been stuck in St. Mungo's for two weeks. He was ridiculously restless. "Can I go today?" he asked. _

_Healer Orion came over to the bed where Harry was sitting. "A little impatient, aren't you?" He waved his wand in a series of loops. Glimmering yellow light flowed from the tip and covered Harry's body. He knew that to Healer Orion's trained eye, medical runes had appeared on his skin. These runes would tell Jules if Harry was healed, or if he was still broken. _

"_How am I looking, doc?" _

_Healer Orion shook his head at the muggle term. "The fracture lines in your right arm are gone. Your shoulder seems to be fine. Move it around a bit." _

_Harry rolled his shoulder obediently. _

_Healer Orion waved his wand again. He chanted something under his breath, and Harry felt ice rush through his body. He shivered. The cold, however, was superior to the sensations that had brought him to St. Mungo's to begin with. The Bone Burning Hex was a nasty piece of work. _

"_No remaining residue," said Jules quietly, almost to himself. "No dormant magic. Well, little wolf, it looks like you're all better." _

_Harry stood and stretched. "So I can go?" he asked. "And you really need to stop calling me that."_

"_Of course," said Jules. "But you are a wolf, whether you recognize it or not. Come on. I'll walk you out." _

_The sunlight flooded his vision when Harry finally walked out of St. Mungo's. "Ahhh," he said, breathing deeply. "Fresh air." _

_He turned to smile at Healer Orion. The other man grinned back at him, and before Harry could protest, before he could say a word, Jules leaned forward, enclosed Harry's face between strong hands, and pressed their lips together. For a moment, Harry felt nothing but warm hands, warm lips, warm sunlight. He felt his mouth coaxed open, felt fingers in his hair, felt Jules' sweet breath on his skin. Then the Healer pulled away. _

"_I hope you don't mind," he said, quietly. "I've wanted to do that for ages." _

_Harry felt breathless. Ginny had never kissed him like that. He had never kissed Ginny like that. "I don't mind," he finally said. _

"_Good," said Jules. He smiled playfully. "Can I do it again?" _

In his dim office, Harry exhaled heavily. He missed home. But he couldn't lose focus. He had a chance to do some good here. Jules had been right, of course. Harry was a wolf. All Aurors were. Harry just happened to be more of the leader of the pack. Looked like that was true at Hogwarts as well.

The next day, as his Sixth Years walked into class, Harry sent out tiny probes of Legilimency to gauge their new defenses. Some of them had obviously practiced. Others had obviously not. Harry walked between rows of desks and looked into each student's eyes.

"Very good, Miss Irmandis." Harry smiled down at the purple-haired witch. "You have a remarkable mind."

Harry stopped at Evan Rosier's desk. The boy looked quick and intelligent, but also distracted. "You should have gone to bed thinking about my assignment, Mr. Rosier. Not my eyes." Those within hearing distance giggled, but Rosier just shrugged unapologetically.

"I see you've been practicing, Mr. Crown." The Ravenclaw beamed.

Harry stopped at Lupin's desk. The full moon was very close now, and it showed on the young werewolf's face. He looked tired and slightly ill, but his shoulders were set, and a sense of peace and serenity surrounded him. His mind was strong. "Excellent, Mr. Lupin. Truly excellent." Remus lifted his chin proudly.

Harry kept on like that, complementing some, correcting some. He made sure to speak to each student. For some reason that he could not name, he saved Snape for last. Harry stopped before his desk and took a deep, internal breath. Snape stared right up at him, unafraid of direct eye contact. His mind was still not as strong as Harry knew it could be, but it was obvious that Snape had taken the assignment seriously. Harry perceived flashes and snippets of thought and memory only. He was slightly alarmed when Snape suddenly thought of the confrontation with Slughorn. He had attacked a professor? Right out in the open and with an Unforgivable? That was worse than Harry had expected. He became pensive when he saw that Snape planned on sneaking out to pick fluxweed during the full moon. Polyjuice Potion?

A voice startled Harry's musings. "Something the matter, professor?" asked Snape quietly.

Harry realized he had been staring. And the problem was, Snape was staring back. Quite openly, in fact. Harry found he could not look away. More thoughts swam into his mind, confused, mixed thoughts and feelings, barely decipherable. Just as Harry had hoped, Snape was interested in Occlumency. Harry had not predicted, however, the burning desire within Snape to solve mysteries and discover secrets, including Harry's.

"You're too curious by half, Mr. Snape," said Harry softly. The longer he looked into those glittering black eyes, the more unnerved he became. Snape may not be a master Legilimens yet, but his eyes were just as piercing as they had always been.

Snape smirked as if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. "Perhaps," was all he said, in a smooth, low voice.

Deep within him, Harry felt something hot and animal unfold.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everyone! Thank you to everyone who added my story to an alert and/or favorite! I love each and every one of you. Thanks to Yukirat, Nomercy Sedia, SuddenPsychosis and Jordina for your lovely reviews! I hope I continue to keep you all interested and reading!

_italics=memory_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and make no money by writing this.

Warnings are in chapter 2.

Please review! Please please please!

**Chapter Six – The Terms of Our Agreement**

Harry let himself have a bit of a lie in when the weekend arrived. His chambers – attached to his office – were warm and comfortable, and his bed was large and soft. For a long while, he could not bring himself to leave it. But leave it he did, when his back started to ache from resting in one position for too long. He rose, took a brief shower, and dressed in casual charcoal trousers and a green button-up and vest. He made his way to the Great Hall for a late breakfast, basking in the laziness of the corridors and the slow milling of students that only ever happened on Saturdays.

Several students greeted him as he walked.

"Hello, Professor James!" called a Fourth-Year wizard. "I'm just headed up to the library to work on your assignment."

"Cheers," Harry replied with a bright smile.

It seemed the Fourth-Year was one of the few students planning to do schoolwork that day. The corridors were nearly empty, and when Harry reached the Great Hall, very few students were present. Most of them, he knew, were out on the grounds, enjoying the last of the autumn weather. Harry took his seat at the High Table. Dumbledore was there, sipping tea and reading the Daily Prophet, but most other professors were as absent as their students.

As Harry ate his eggs and toast, he reflected on his first week as a professor and on his upcoming classes. He thought the week had gone well, better than, actually, but he didn't want to press his luck. He would have to come up with even better classes and demonstrations for next week. And on top of that, he couldn't forget about home. He needed to start working on some sort of solution as to how to get back to his own time. Harry glanced over at Dumbledore.

"Do you know where I might find Horace today, Albus?" he asked.

Dumbledore let the top of the paper fold down. "Hmmm, let me think. He'll either be in his office, brewing, or out by the greenhouses, trying to be inconspicuous about stealing plants from Professor Sprout."

Harry laughed. "Brilliant."

After he finished breakfast, Harry headed outside. It was a beautiful day, and almost all of the inhabitants of Hogwarts were taking advantage of it. Harry felt as if he might get lucky in finding Slughorn outside, so he strolled casually around the grounds, thinking on what he might say. How could he tell Slughorn what he needed without revealing too much about his situation or time travel? The answer came to him almost immediately. He needed to emulate Tom Riddle. Slughorn, though he was adept at Potions and a capable wizard, had one outstanding weakness. He was attracted to and distracted by power. Riddle had succeeded in discovering Horcruxes because he had made himself irresistibly charming to Slughorn, something which Harry needed to do now. Hopefully with better success than in his Sixth Year. He didn't have Felix Felicis to help him now.

As he neared the greenhouses, Harry cast a charm on his glasses to get rid of the glare. He wanted Slughorn to be able to clearly see his eyes. As he rounded a corner of the greenhouse and caught Slughorn walking toward him, Harry knew he was ready. He raised his hand in greeting and called out a casual "Hello!"

Horace looked up immediately. His round face brightened at the sight of Harry, and he stopped in his tracks to wait for the younger man to approach him. "Harry! How are you, m'boy?"

Harry grinned. "I'm enjoying the weather," he said. "I thought I might take a walk through the greenhouses. Care to join me?"

"Of course!" cried Slughorn. "No better place on earth to walk!"

They walked slowly. Harry made small talk for a time, careful to put Slughorn at ease. He commented on the plants they passed and asked Slughorn about their uses in potions. The Potions Professor was only too eager to supply Harry with answers. He spoke delightedly about the plants and their uses, and seemed genuinely pleased to find that Harry was such an enthusiastic listener.

"You must be renowned for your potions knowledge," Harry complimented, as they passed a row of pots budding with bright orange vines.

Horace actually blushed at the praise. "Ah, my dear boy, you'll find I'm just one of many."

Harry shook his head and touched Slughorn lightly on the arm. "Nonsense. You must be the best."

Horace laughed. "Well, I am rather good."

Harry smiled encouragingly. "Do you know anything about Reversal Potions?"

"Devilishly tricky to make," replied Horace after a moment. "Dangerous, too. One must know the exact parameters of whatever it is they are trying to reverse. If even the slightest ingredient or incantation is wrong, the brewer could end up reversing the wrong element."

Harry let that information sink in. "So," he said slowly, "the potion requires more than just your average ingredients?"

"Oh, much more!" said Slughorn. "First of all, one Reversal Potion is never the same as another. The ingredients change depending upon that which you are trying to reverse. The Reversal Potion is not something you can trust to just any witch or wizard. Each one is a unique creation. It requires deep knowledge of hundreds of types of ingredients, many strings of spells and enchantments, often-times a sacrifice or two, and on top of that, a willing and confident brewer!"

Harry stopped walking. He gazed at Slughorn with bewilderment clear on his face. "It sounds much more complicated than I thought," he admitted.

Horace laughed. "You couldn't pay me to brew it!" His smile fell a little as he stared at Harry. "Why so interested, m'boy?"

Harry shook himself mentally and let a sweet smile form on his lips. "Curiosity, professor," he said. "My expertise may not lie in the field of Potions, but I take great interest in anything close to the Dark Arts. Know thine enemy, professor, and then you can defend yourself against it."

He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well said! You know, if you're really interested, I can direct you toward some books that contain research on the Reversal Potion, as well as others of its kind."

Harry allowed his eyes to acquire a wide and willing sparkle. "Really?"

"Absolutely!" boomed Slughorn. "Follow me, dear Harry! Follow me!"

Half an hour later – Horace was a rather slow walker – they entered the library. It was dark and musty, even on such a vibrant Saturday, and nearly empty. Only a few students, those fully devoted to school and homework, were present. Horace led Harry right up to Madam Pince's desk. She peered over her pince-nez at them, her beady eyes severe and calculating.

"What do you want, boy?" she asked, and Harry swallowed nervously, the line and the tone all too familiar. He opened his mouth to speak, but Horace cut in.

"Hardly a boy, Irma," he said, using her first name even though she shot him a warning glare. "Harry is a professor, and he has use of the Restricted Section today."

Madam Pince moved her gaze from Slughorn to Harry. Her nose crinkled at the sight of him, as if his very presence were harmful to her books. "Fine," she finally said. "Careful in there, boy. You don't want to upset the books."

Harry smiled weakly. He had faced Voldemort and countless trials in his life, but the Hogwarts Librarian still made him sweat. All the same, he followed Horace into the Restricted Section. The Potions Professor stayed just long enough to point out the correct section, and then ambled away, claiming hunger pains, which was just as well for Harry. He preferred to do this part alone. He walked the aisle, letting the tips of his fingers linger gently over the spines of the books. He smiled fondly when his eyes caught _Moste Potente Potions_. He pulled it slowly from the shelf and held it in his hands. Memories of secret potions and hiding in a girl's bathroom swarmed him. Harry's smile grew. He wished Hermione were here to help him now. Still holding the book, Harry continued down the aisle. When nothing else immediately jumped out at him, he chose a squishy armchair deep in Restricted Section and sat himself down to read.

_Moste Potente Potions _turned out to be just what he was looking for. Nestled amongst other dark and dangerous potions was an entire section on the Reversal Potion. Slughorn had been right. It was bloody difficult to brew. The smallest mistake would result in a botched potion that could not be saved. And it took months to brew successfully. The book gave no list of ingredients. As Slughorn had said, they changed depending on the parameters of what needed to be reversed. The more Harry read about the Reversal Potion, the more he realized it was not something he could attempt on his own. In reality, he didn't even think Slughorn could attempt it. The Reversal Potion required an instinctual master, not a trained master.

In all his life, Harry had ever only met one man who had a true and natural instinct for Potions.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus, like the other students, enjoyed spending his weekends out of doors. His decision to stay inside on Saturday, therefore, had nothing to do with the amount of homework he needed to get done. It had nothing to do with Potter and Black and Lupin, who had taken prime spots by the lake and were showing off to everyone who could see them. It had nothing to with Lily, who had opted to take her books into the sunshine, so that she could sit near Potter and smile at his antics.

He told himself that they were petty and foolish, and no reason at all to hide away indoors.

Instead, Severus allowed himself to think that he did not venture outside because he had research to do. Personal research on one Professor James.

The library was nearly deserted. It was remarkably quiet, just the way Severus liked it, and his favorite table was empty. Severus set down his bag and walked toward the shadowed rows of books. He spent quite some time browsing the Defense Against the Dark Arts section, but found no books that might tell him about his professor's mysterious mind reading capabilities. He wandered on. There was nothing interesting in Spells or Charms, nor even in Wizarding Psychology. Finally, in a small section that housed a few books on darker magic, Severus found a thin tome that looked as if it might be useful. He pulled it from the shelf and meandered back to his table.

The book, titled _Mind Tricks_, explored at length the different types of magics that affected the mind. Severus read with interest. The book was not limited to one branch of magic. Instead, the anonymous author had chosen to research not just spells and enchantments, but potions and transfigurations that had an impact on the mind. There was even a short chapter devoted to Astronomy, and how the stars could produce bizarre psychological effects. Severus could not stop reading, and when his eyes first alighted on the term 'Legilimency,' he read right past it.

Only his customary flicker of curiosity at an unknown word made him look again.

Legilimency. Severus tested the word quietly as he read. It rolled off his tongue in a way that just felt right. And as he perused the few paragraphs on this magic, he knew that he had found the answer to the riddle that was Professor James. He wasn't a mind reader. At least, not fully. He was a thought extractor. A memory stealer. Severus felt his stomach roil at the thought. If he had realized that by making eye contact with Professor James, he was actually encouraging the use of Legilimency, he would have been much more careful.

"Severus," said a voice quite suddenly. "You look distressed."

Severus glanced up. Regulus Black stood across from him, a younger, neater version of his older brother. He wore his school uniform even though it was Saturday, and carried his normal stack of books. Though Severus did not usually associate with the younger years, he was pleased to see Regulus.

"Regulus," he greeted, and gestured toward the chair opposite him. "Would you like to sit?"

Regulus set his books down. He pulled parchment, quill and ink from his bag before seating himself. Severus felt his lips twitch upwards. Regulus was always careful, always controlled. He lacked all of the wildness that Sirius took pride in, and instead lived his life in a precise and rational manner.

"What do you know of Legilimency?" asked Severus as Regulus situated himself.

The younger Slytherin paused in his movements. He glanced up at Severus through thick lashes. "Legilimency?"

Severus nodded. In addition to all of his other virtues, Regulus was like a walking library. He had one of the best memories Severus had ever encountered, and knew a great many things that others did not, and that Regulus himself probably shouldn't have known at all.

"It's borderline dark," answered Regulus after a moment. "Debatably legal. Legilimency is a spell used to extract thoughts, memories and emotions from one's mind. It can be taught, though it helps if one has a natural affinity for it." Here he stopped. He tilted his head. "Why so interested, Severus?"

The other boy shrugged. For a moment he considered not replying. But then he realized he wouldn't be able to hide much from Regulus. "Have you noticed anything strange about the new professor?"

Regulus tapped his chin thoughtfully, but then his eyes widened in understanding and he nodded slowly. "Yes, I see now. Although we haven't been taught Occlumency like your year, Professor James has not quite been able to hide that he's a Legilimens."

Severus' eyebrows drew together sharply. "Occlumency?"

"The defensive counterpart to Legilimency," said Regulus. "Doesn't your book mention it?"

Severus looked down at the still-open book. He read a bit further. "It mentions Occlumency only briefly. There's no real description."

"It's the art of closing your mind to attack by Legilimency," said Regulus. "It's a shield, if you will."

His voice remained factual even as he explained. That was one aspect of Regulus' personality that Severus truly appreciated. The younger boy never boasted any of his knowledge.

"From what I understand," continued Regulus, "it is very difficult to learn. There a not very many people who are skilled in both Legilimency and Occlumency."

Severus considered what he had been told. It was just his luck that Harry James happened to be one of the few who had mastered both the offensive and defensive forms of the spell.

"Thank you," said Severus politely once Regulus had finished talking.

Regulus bowed his head. When he looked up again, his eyes were much more hesitant. "I would like to accompany you when you go out for fluxweed during the full moon."

Severus tensed. His eyes turned to slits. "How did you know?"

Regulus held up his hands peacefully. "I smelled the Polyjuice. No one said anything."

Severus looked at him for a minute and then nodded. "This is my task," he said at last. "Not yours. There is no need for you to involve yourself."

"I know," agreed Regulus. "But I am eager to serve the Dark Lord in any way I can. Besides, it would be foolish to go traipsing through the forest alone, at night, under a full moon. I can be of use to you."

Severus had to admit that he was right. The forest would be dangerous during the full moon, and an extra wand, especially belonging to the skilled Regulus, would be valuable. "Alright," said Severus after several minutes. "You can come. Consider it my payment for how you helped me today."

Regulus simply nodded. He opened one of his books and began to read. The two boys sat in silence until a shadow fell over their table.

"Mr. Snape," said a smooth, masculine voice.

Severus looked up immediately. Professor James stood at his side. Severus briefly made eye-contact, and then remembering what he had just learned about Legilimency, looked away. He focused his gaze instead on the shallow hollow at the base of the professor's throat.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to stop by my office sometime today?" continued the professor. "There's a matter I'd like to discuss with you."

Severus felt his breath catch. "Of course, professor," he said.

"Excellent," replied Professor James. "Whenever suits you." He glanced at Regulus. "Mr. Black," he said, and after a quick look between both boys, he turned and walked away.

Severus was very careful not to look after him. He stared steadily at his book, but he was quite aware of both the retreating figure of Harry James and the curious gaze of Regulus Black.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry was pacing his office when Snape knocked on the door a mere hour later. He had been flicking his fingers at the floating candles, changing the small flames from orange, to blue, to green, and then back again. When Snape knocked, they were blue. Harry left them that way and called a soft "Come in!"

Snape poked his head around the corner, followed by his hunched shoulders and lanky body. Harry felt strangely nervous at the sight of him, even though an hour previously he hadn't believed his luck at finding the one person he had been looking for within his reach. He gestured Snape inside with a firm mental command to regain control of himself. Snape was just a student, after all.

However, as Snape took a seat in front of his desk and Harry took a seat behind it, he wondered how to broach the topic of the Reversal Potion. There was no way he could let Snape know that he was actually living in the wrong time, and there was no way to get the correct potion without letting Snape know it. As Harry sat there in silent thought, Snape leaned forward and opened his mouth.

"I want you to teach me Legilimency," he said, his voice strong and steady.

Harry blinked.

"I know that what you're teaching us in class, your so-called 'meditation,' is really Occlumency," Snape said, blazing forward. "I want to learn Legilimency as well."

Harry tried to show no outward reaction to this declaration. Before he could formulate a reply, Snape continued.

"I know that Legilimency is semi-dark. I know that to use it on others without their permission can have legal ramifications."

Harry's eyebrows rose at that. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Snape?" he asked, very quietly. He looked Snape straight in the eyes, and knew the younger man could not look away.

Snape didn't respond. He simply sat and stared at Harry, who could not believe his luck. He had been desperately wracking his brain for not only a solution to the Reversal Potion problem, but a way to privately teach Snape Legilimens and Occlumency, and Snape had handed him one unknowingly. He had to physically restrain himself from smiling. Instead, he made his face as serious as he could get it.

"If I teach you Legilimency, Mr. Snape," Harry began, "I will require something in return."

Now it was Snape's turn for raised eyebrows. "I hardly think you're in a position to bargain, professor."

Harry grinned coolly. "And I hardly think you're in a position to threaten a teacher, whatever leverage you think you might have." Harry paused to let Snape think on that before continuing. "I will teach you Legilimency, Mr. Snape. But I will require your services in return."

Snape sneered lightly. "My services?"

"I need a potion," said Harry. "A very difficult and delicate potion. It is, unfortunately, beyond my abilities to brew. I need a master."

"Professor Slughorn –" began Snape.

"Is not good enough," finished Harry. "I need your instincts, Mr. Snape. Brew me this potion, and I will train you in both Legilimency and Occlumency."

Snape said nothing for several long moments. "What is the potion?" he finally asked.

"Reversal," responded Harry.

Snape actually laughed. "The Reversal Potion? You must be joking."

Harry kept his face completely blank. He said not a word.

Snape's laugh turned into deafening silence. "You aren't joking. You actually want a Reversal Potion."

Harry nodded.

"You're asking me to brew one of the most difficult potions in existence," said Snape slowly. He didn't seem surprised when Harry gave him no answer. He was quiet for a long time. Finally, "I'll need to know what it is I'm reversing."

Harry's heart beat quickly. "Then you agree?"

Snape nodded shortly.

Harry exhaled. He felt as if a dead weight had been peeled from his body. One way or another, he would make it home. "I'll need you to swear an Unbreakable Vow that what I tell you will not be repeated," said Harry in a sudden flash of inspiration.

Snape appeared hesitant, but he finally agreed. He sat forward with interest as Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath in preparation for his tale.

_It was early summer. Harry and a small squad of Elite Aurors were tracking down a rogue gang of Dark Wizards. They claimed no affiliation with Voldemort's lost cause, but they were equally as violent and had become increasingly dangerous to the Wizarding Community. _

"_We'll need to be careful," Harry had said as he briefed his team earlier that day. "The problem with these rogues, as you all know, is that they've combined volatile magics. They've created potion bombs – small muggle-like devices that explode upon contact."_

_Harry watched as his Aurors recalled just how meddlesome those tiny bombs had been in past. _

"_We do what we've always done," Harry said. "We go in, we clean up, we get out. But we can't forget the psychology of the wizards we are dealing with. From all that we've gathered so far, this group has no cause. They harm for the sake of harming, kill for the pleasure of killing. There is no order to what they do. No design. That makes them unpredictable, and about twice as dangerous as anything we've ever faced." _

_Harry's men did not appear afraid. They looked at him steadily. They were an unwavering lot. Harry smiled. _

"_We're cleaning up a small nest in London today," he told them. "Muggle London, so we have to be extra careful. You know the drill, gentlemen. I expect you all to be fully prepared and ready to leave within the hour." _

_The team was ready in ten minutes. Harry supplied the Apparators with coordinates and they departed in groups of three. Ron was with Harry. Though many had thought their friendship might suffer if they worked as partners, Harry and Ron had only ever flourished. Together, they made a nearly unbeatable team. _

_Harry cast a wandless Disillusionment over his unit once they had all landed. From then on, the hunt was a blur of running through abandoned buildings until they found the nest of rogues. The battle, though short, was gruesome. The potion bombs were used to full effect, forcing Harry's Aurors to eliminate many of the rogues instead of taking them in for questioning as Minister Kingsley had desired. Three-quarters of the rogues were killed in the short battle, the remaining huddled together, bound by charmed ropes, to be sent to the ministry. _

_But they had missed one. _

_A child, no more than eight years old, leapt out at the Aurors as they were preparing to leave. He held a potion bomb in one hand, and threw it directly at Harry just before a Stunner sent him heavily to the floor. Harry cast a containing charm at the bomb at the same time as Ron cast a banishing spell. The two jets of light collided, made the bomb explode, and then rebounded back toward Harry. The last thing he heard was Ron screaming. The last thing he saw was blackness. _

_For a long time, he felt absolutely nothing, as if he were suspended in the air. Then, a tug behind his navel, much like the tug of a portkey, had him tumbling into Muggle London once more. _

_It was 1976. It didn't take Harry's Auror instincts long to figure out what had happened._

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus gasped as the crackling magic of the Unbreakable Vow etched invisibly into his skin. He grasped the arm of his professor tightly, unable to control the grip of his fingers as the magic washed over him. After a moment, it was done. Professor James was the first to let go. Severus stepped back, willing himself to remain calm.

He tried to look elsewhere, but the slight, powerful frame of Harry James continually called his eyes. Severus had just uttered a vow with this man. He had held his arm, not in a simple agreement, but in a life-binding promise.

They had a secret now, the two of them.

Severus felt a shiver come over his body. He let it happen. He stared into green eyes, impossibly wide after the sharp tingles of the vow. The Unbreakable Vow required three people to cast – those receiving and administering the spell, and the Bonder. It should not have surprised him that this man before him could act as both Bonder for the spell and Administrator.

But it did.

Severus smiled. He hoped that Professor James would always be able to surprise him.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to my readers and reviewers! You guys rock!

Here's chapter 7. There's a bit of language in this one, and a teeny tiny bit of very mild Sirius/Remus. If you aren't a fan of that pairing, don't worry. It's really just emotional affection between two friends. I changed the rating of the story to M, though, just to be safe, as I expect chapters from here on out to be slightly more adult.

As a side note, has anyone ever noticed the abundance of R's and S's in the names of Harry Potter characters? It's ridiculous.

Disclaimer: I do not own HP and make no money by writing this.

Also, please review. Basically, your reviews equal 'positive creative energy.' No reviews equal 'depressed creative energy.' So if you have to choose one, wouldn't you choose the first? I definitely prefer positive creative energy. It allows me to write chapters faster. Actually, it allows me to write at all. So please, maybe a few more of you three thousand people who clicked on my story last time I updated can review. Maybe? Please?

And now, enough blabbing from me! Enjoy chapter 7!

**Chapter 7 – A Stroll in the Moonlight**

Before he even opened his eyes, Severus' body was fully alert. He was not sure exactly where he was, but he could feel another body close to his. His posture was off; he was not lying down, as if in a bed, but hunched in a sort of slumped recline, as if he had been sitting up.

"Severus? Are you awake?"

His eyes snapped open. He was in the Slytherin Common Room, and Vendra was sitting next to him. Severus sat up immediately and looked carefully from side to side. There were other students present, but they were all ignoring Severus and Vendra.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Vendra blinked curiously. "I was hoping you could tell me."

Severus allowed himself to relax when it appeared that the other Slytherins were not going to take advantage of his weakened state. "It's Sunday?" he inquired, and barely waited for Vendra's nod before continuing. "I must've fallen asleep."

"Must've," agreed Vendra with an amused smile. "But this is very unlike you, Severus. You never take cat naps out in the open."

"I know," said Severus. "I was up late."

"Apparently," said Vendra. Her smile turned mischievous. "With a girl?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "I was with Professor James, if you must know."

Vendra's eyes grew comically wide, and Severus gave himself a moment to savor the surprised look on her face before he explained.

"He's agreed to teach me –" A quick glance around the Common Room, a lowered voice – "Legilimency and Occlumency."

Of course, he had to explain to Vendra, in great detail, what those terms meant. Luckily for him, Vendra was a quick study.

"And he just agreed," she asked suspiciously, "just like that?"

Severus thought how to tell her about the Reversal Potion without breaking the Unbreakable Vow. And then he thought about how he would explain that Harry James – if that was even his real name – was a time traveler.

"Let's just say that he's getting something in return," supplied Severus at last. "And Vendra? You'll just have to trust me."

She narrowed her bright blue eyes at him and huffed. "Fine. But you know how I feel about secrets."

"Then you'll understand that this isn't my secret to tell," said Severus.

Vendra nodded. "Alright. I shan't pester you about it."

Severus sat up a little straighter and stretched his neck. "How long was I asleep?"

"I don't know," answered Vendra with a small shrug. "I came down around half six this morning and found you. I've been sitting here with you ever since. Been about two hours."

Severus gave her a tiny smile of appreciation. Slytherins, Severus knew, no matter how friendly they appeared, were not trustworthy. Any one of his housemates could have hexed him or cursed him while sleeping, or worse. They could have ransacked his room. Rifled through his things. Vendra's vigilance had most likely saved him quite a bit of trouble.

"Out with it," commanded Severus after a few minutes of silence, when he noticed the worried frown on Vendra's face.

She looked at him guiltily, but then straightened her shoulders resolutely. "I want to go with you into the forest tomorrow night."

"For Salazar's sake," growled Severus lowly. "Does everyone know that I'm planning on sneaking out tomorrow?"

Vendra sat back, startled by Severus' outburst. "Not that I'm aware of," she hesitantly replied.

"Damn it all, Vendra, it was rhetorical," snapped Severus. "And no, you may not come with me. I'm already taking Regulus."

Vendra pouted. "Why does little Black get to share in the fun and not me?"

Severus tossed her a sideways glance. "Only you could think that the Dark Forest on the night of the full moon is fun."

Vendra waved her hand dismissively. "You need me out there, Severus. I can help protect you."

Now Severus almost pouted. "I can take care of myself. And besides, Regulus really is going with me. I don't need more than one tag-along on this trip."

Almost as soon as he said it, Severus winced. Vendra definitely wouldn't take to being called a 'tag-along.' But she just frowned at him.

"I'm worried about you," she admitted quietly. "I know that this mission is important. I just want to see you achieve it."

Severus raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise. Vendra had always been the most neutral Slytherin he'd ever met. She took absolutely no sides in this bloody war of the Dark Lord, and was proud of it. To hear her say that she wanted him to be careful, that she wanted him to succeed… she must care more deeply for him than he had assumed.

Severus smiled gently. "We'll be sensible, Vendra, promise."

"See that you are," she said firmly. "And I swear to the Four Founders and back, if Regulus Black lets one single thing happen to you, I'll pull out his organs through his nose and use them as potions ingredients."

Severus smirked. "Yes, well, I think he heard you just fine."

He watched as Vendra stood and turned around to face Regulus, who had come upon their cozy couch just as the petite witch was making her threats. He nodded once at Severus, and then bowed lightly toward Vendra.

"I'll be incredibly protective, Miss Irmandis," he intoned.

Vendra nodded sharply. "I'll be counting on it."

Severus sighed in irritation. "I'm sitting right here, you know. And as I've mentioned, I can take care of myself."

"We know," said Regulus and Vendra together.

Severus just shook his head. "Need something, Regulus?"

At that moment Regulus fell into a fit of coughing and doubled over. His wand jerked slightly, and a tightly folded piece of parchment flew from inside his sleeve toward Severus, who caught it and tucked it away neatly.

After a moment of hacking and wheezing, Regulus righted himself. "Just wanted to assure Vendra that I'd take excellent care of you." And without another word, he turned and walked away.

Severus felt his lip curl. For a Slytherin, Regulus wasn't very subtle.

(RL-RL-RL)

Remus felt like he was dying. There was still a day till the full moon, but already he could feel it pulling at him, urging him to abandon his human form, to let go. It was madness. And it was painful. He sat huddled in a chair in the Gryffindor Common Room all Sunday morning, ignoring Sirius, who was trying to force feed him toast and tea, and ignoring his head, which felt like it was splitting open. He sat as far away from his normal window seat as he could get. Today, the light hurt not only his eyes, but his skin as well. He burrowed into the warm chair, clenched his eyes shut, and desperately fought to ignore his splintering bones.

"Come on, Remus," Sirius repeatedly whispered, stroking his arms and legs, petting his hair as if he were already an animal. "Come on, Remus, you can do this. You can do it."

Remus shook his head over and over and hoped that he was successfully restraining his whimpers. From the way Sirius continued to fuss over him, he guessed that he wasn't. At one point, he heard James and Peter come over. He felt the three of them surround him in his chair, and he whimpered even louder, feeling helplessly trapped.

"How is he?" asked Peter quietly.

"It's bad this time," whispered Sirius, just as quietly. "I haven't seen him this bad in a long time."

"Maybe we should take him up to the Hospital Wing?" asked James hesitantly.

Remus gasped and opened his eyes and shook his head, but the light hurt, and the shaking made him dizzy, and he had to stop or risk losing what little food he had in his stomach. He hated being seen this way.

"Prob'ly a good idea," said Sirius.

"Right," said James. "I'll get the cloak."

Twenty minutes later, Remus – under the influence of a feather light charm – was being carried in Sirius's arms up to hospital. They were both under James's Invisibility Cloak and James, uncovered, walked next to them, whistling a tune. Peter had remained behind to ward off questions from Lily, should they arise. Remus, having no energy and knowing that it was futile anyway, did not protest to being carried like a damsel in distress. Quite the opposite, really. His pain-addled mind could only comprehend that there was something rather nice about being held like this. It made him feel safe, protected, and loved. He wanted to snuggle into Sirius. He tried, but his arms wouldn't move. They just dangled, useless.

"We better pick up the pace, James," whispered Sirius from above him. "It's getting worse."

Remus heard James whisper something back, but he was too distracted by the light to care about what was being said. The light was all around him, out here in the corridors. Even the unnatural light of the torches burned, and the Invisibility Cloak didn't help. He felt consumed by light, and he closed his eyes tightly and stifled a cry.

"Shit… hurry…. James it's bad…."

He heard only rushed words. They passed through his mind like puffs of invisible breath and vanished.

"Quick!... Pomfrey… oh fuck, careful!..."

"Language, Mr. Potter!"

Remus felt his body being jolted. They laid him down on something. Suddenly, it was dark. He sighed at the blessed relief. But then he felt something cool on his lips. He struggled, his cries audible now, but there were fingers on his throat, and something in his mouth. He swallowed.

And then there was nothing at all.

Sometime later, Remus woke up. He opened his eyes first, and when that went okay, he tried sitting up. His stomach roiled. He leaned over the side of the bed and vomited violently.

"Okay, oh shit, okay, it's okay, Remus. I've got you. I've got you."

The voice was very close, but Remus was too busy dry heaving to care about who it belonged to. When he finished, he sat up slowly. Sirius was there. He was leaning over the bed, holding Remus's hair away from his face. He waved his wand, and the puddle of vomit vanished.

"Sorry," whispered Remus. His voice came out choked and hoarse, as if he had not used it in years.

Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at Remus. Concern had etched deep furrows into his brow, and there were lines around his mouth from frowning. His eyes, however, were clear. Remus had always been fond of those eyes. They were very grey, and they always had a hint of wildness in them. They were framed by lashes of the darkest hues, and were a direct reflection of what Sirius was feeling.

And right now, he was feeling angry.

Remus shied away, overwhelmed by the feeling that he had been a burden. He wanted to curl into a ball and disappear to a place where the moon didn't call him, and the wolf didn't haunt him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Sirius. He reached forward and tucked a strand of brown hair behind Remus's ear.

"I'm sorry," Remus said again, flinching away from the hand. "Sorry."

For a moment Sirius seemed startled and drew his hand back. But then realization dawned in his eyes, and he moved closer. He forced himself right up into Remus's space. He put two strong hands on his shoulders.

"Remus, look at me," he demanded, and his voice offered no room for disobedience.

Remus looked.

"You have done nothing wrong," Sirius continued in a steady voice. "There is nothing you could do to make me upset with you. You are not a burden, and I am not angry at you."

Remus felt himself sag. "But you are angry."

Sirius moved closer. He pulled Remus into a hug, a quick, reflexive embrace. His lips settled at Remus's ear. "I'm angry at the bastard that did this to you. Not at you." He pulled back slightly and shook his head. "I want to rip him apart with my teeth for putting you through this."

It was the dog talking, Remus knew. He tried to laugh, but it turned into more dry heaving, and Sirius sat there and rubbed his back and whispered nonsense to him until it stopped. Remus leaned back into his pillows and closed his eyes.

"I wish you didn't have to see me like this," he said slowly.

He felt lips on his face. He opened his eyes in shock, and Sirius was right there. He brought his hands up and tapped Remus on the nose.

"You silly, silly wolf," Sirius said. "When are you going to see how desperately we love you?"

Sirius peppered light kisses all over his face, forcing Remus to close his eyes again. He felt something warm and bright start to grow in his chest, and he swallowed thickly. Sirius was usually never this affectionate. It must have been very bad this time, but Remus couldn't quite remember. The Nerve Numbing Potion that Madam Pomfrey had force fed him was doing its job, dulling his body so that there was no pain. But he could feel Sirius's lips.

And for a while, he convinced himself that it was okay to just sit there and be loved.

(SS-SS-SS)

Sunday melted away.

Severus hardly noticed. He spent the majority of the day in his dormitory, brewing the Polyjuice Potion and experimenting with locking wards on the door. So far, neither Wilkes nor Avery had managed to break the latest one he'd come up with, and even Evan had tried some pretty creative methods of getting inside.

He knew his dorm mates were starting to get royally pissed, but this was a very delicate stage in the potion. If he didn't brew exactly right the day before the fluxweed was added, then the entire thing would be botched and he would have to start all over again. That included waiting for the next full moon. Which meant making the Dark Lord wait another month for delivery. Which was simply not an option, even if it meant denying access of their own dorm to his friends. They would understand. Eventually. After they thought of a few ways to exact revenge.

They were Slytherins, after all.

Severus finally emerged when his stomach growled so loudly he almost upset a jar of dried pig's feet into the potion. Only Rodolphus was waiting for him when he stepped out of the dorm, leaning lazily against the wall and flicking his wand at a family of spiders up in a corner of the low ceiling. They fell from their webs one by one as Rodolphus turned his wand on them. When he saw Severus, he tucked his wand away and smirked.

"I'd watch out for Evan, if I were you," warned Rodolphus. "You forced him to use public lavatories today. He was none too pleased."

Severus shrugged. "He'll get over it, I'm sure. Want to go to dinner? I'm starved."

Rodolphus nodded. "I heard a Second Year say its casual night. Think there'll be fish 'n chips?"

"Dunno," said Severus. "Don't care as long as it's food. Salazar, but I'm hungry."

Rodolphus raised an eyebrow. "Well when was the last time you actually ate, Severus?"

He thought for a minute. "Yesterday, I think. Breakfast."

Rodolphus clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get you some treacle tart."

The Great Hall was very crowded. It seemed several students were in the same boat as Severus. They had filled every inch of their weekends with lazing about outdoors and had forgotten food. Now, like a pack of ravenous vultures, they ate everything that appeared before them.

"It's absolutely bloody disgusting in here," commented Severus as he sat between Rodolphus and Vendra. Evan sat a few seats down and tried to appear as if he wasn't watching Severus. Severus, fully aware of Evan's glower, spent dinner trying to deflect the small jinxes and hexes that Evan sent his way. When the Slytherins made it back to the Common Room, Evan promptly locked himself in the bathroom, turned on a shower, and began singing Weird Sisters songs quite loudly.

"Great," said Rodolphus. "He'll be in there all bloody night now."

Severus snorted. He checked the Polyjuice Potion and nodded, satisfied with his work. He turned to Rodolphus, who had his head tilted in contemplation.

"I got a letter from home today," said Rodolphus after a moment. "Father has picked a bride for me."

"A bride?" repeated Severus, taken aback. "Already? Who?"

Rodolphus sneered. "Bellatrix Black."

Severus actually felt the color drain from his face. "Bellatrix Black? Is he mad?"

Rodolphus sighed and ran a hand across his eyes. "I don't know. But he expects me to start courting her next year."

Severus didn't know what to say. He had only met Bellatrix Black on one occasion, and it was not something he looked forward to repeating. She was quite a bit older than Severus and his friends, and already firmly ensconced within the Dark Lord's ranks. She was about as Dark as they came, and though quite beautiful and intelligent, she was utterly terrifying.

"Isn't there a way you could…" Severus began, but then trailed off.

Rodolphus shook his head. "You know I haven't got a choice in the matter."

"Well, good luck with that then, mate," said Severus quietly. He knew he could offer no encouragement, since there was nothing he could do to help the situation.

"Yeah," said Rodolphus. "I'm going to go find Rabastan. I'll see you later."

"I saw him out in the Common Room with Regulus," said Severus, and watched Rodolphus disappear out into the hall. He felt sorry for his friend, and didn't envy him his father's choice of wife. It would be a difficult marriage, and not for the first time, Severus was glad that his own muggle father had neither aristocratic pureblood upbringing nor the authority to go along with it.

Alone in the dormitory, Severus sprawled on his bed and finally allowed himself to think about the one topic he had been avoiding – Professor James. Even now, he could feel the binding constraints of the Unbreakable Vow on his skin. He couldn't quite remember now what he had been expecting when he knocked on Professor James' door the previous evening, but it certainly hadn't been what had occurred. Even when Severus gave his veiled threat that he would expose the use of the professor's Legilimency, Harry James had never once lost control of their meeting.

Even within his memories, Severus floundered at the man's ability to turn and direct and control the conversation. Severus had always fancied himself quite the manipulator, but he was nothing compared to his professor. The man had outwitted him at every turn. But then again, what else should Severus expect from a man who came from the future, who knew things of which Severus could only dream, and who somehow, despite the circumstances, still managed to conceal all the most important bits about himself?

Severus knew that twenty-five was his real age, and that he came from the year 2005. He knew that in that time, Harry James was Head Auror, an impressive post for one so young. He knew all of the circumstances of the incident that had brought Harry here, to the past. And yet he still felt as if he knew absolutely nothing.

But Severus wasn't worried. He would start the Reversal Potion on Tuesday, and he would be meeting with Professor James once or twice a week. He would not allow himself to be continually outsmarted by the older man. He knew he could count on his Slytherin instincts to unravel the secrets and mysteries of the time traveler. It was only a matter of how persuasive he could be.

(RL-RL-RL)

Monday dawned bright and clear. Remus, awake in his hospital bed, stared unblinkingly out the window. The pain was gone for now, as it always was in the hours before the full moon. He felt an incredible itch all over, as if something was crawling inside him, and he knew that with the sinking of the sun and the rising of the moon, the pain would return. But for now, he simply sat and stared. He felt a pull deep within his soul, a wolf cry of terror and anguish, a creature howling to get out. He violently suppressed that creature, although he knew he could not hold it for long. Soon, the creature would be suppressing him.

James came to visit him briefly during breakfast, before classes started. He stayed for only a few minutes, promising that he and Peter and Sirius would be there when night fell, as always. Remus wanted to respond, but it took all of his effort to keep the wolf down, so he simply nodded silently. James seemed to understand. He left with a nod.

His friends did not return at lunch. Remus knew they wouldn't. They were conserving strength and collecting energy for the night ahead. But something did happen that Remus had not expected. Professor James stopped by. Remus watched silently as the green-eyed wizard sweet-talked his way past Pomfrey. He sat down next to Remus's bed and passed him a cup of tea.

"Go on," said Professor James gently. "It'll make you feel better."

Remus doubted it, but he forced his lips open and took a sip. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. It tasted like chocolate. He drank some more.

Professor James smiled. "I thought I might sit with you for a while, if you like."

Remus hesitated for a long moment. He truly hated being seen in this condition, but Professor James looked at him as if he were perfectly fine, not grotesquely ill and in the hospital. He nodded slowly.

Professor James grinned brightly and patted his arm. He pulled a small book from inside his robes, adjusted his glasses, flipped open the book, and began to read. Remus stared at him in astonishment, but after a while he simply sat back and appreciated the companionable silence. Professor James did not expect him to play host or talk. He didn't seem to expect anything at all. He just sat and read, occasionally laughing or humming or reading an interesting passage aloud to Remus.

Remus, for his part, could not remember the last time he enjoyed himself this much on the day of the full moon.

When evening fell, Remus felt a chill settle across his body. He rose from his bed and left the Hospital Wing without alerting Madam Pomfrey. He walked through the castle as if in a trance, left through the great entrance doors and made his way toward the Whomping Willow. The few vestiges of light left in the sky kept him sane, and the sight of his friends, ready and waiting for him by the tree, put his mind at ease.

"Alright, there, Remus?" asked Peter.

Remus nodded.

"To the Shack, then," said James, as he flicked his wand and the tree stilled.

"Maybe we can go for a run in the forest tonight, Remus," suggested Sirius excitedly as they clambered down into the passage below the tree.

Remus simply shrugged and shuffled along, his skin growing colder and colder. When they reached the Shrieking Shack and Remus emerged into the gleaming moonlight, the ice that had settled across his body turned to liquid fire. He screamed and arched up, and then knew no more.

(SS-SS-SS)

Regulus Black was waiting for him by the doors in the Entrance Hall when night fell, just as his note claimed he would be. He had brought a book along, and was leaning against the wall with his nose stuck in the pages when Severus approached. Regulus didn't look up as Severus drew near, didn't even stir as Severus reached out and Disillusioned him.

"Alright, keep up," said Severus quietly, and he strode through the doors and into the night. Nobody questioned him as he left the castle. There weren't very many students about, and those that were didn't even seem to notice Severus as he passed. The moon was brilliant and full, and it lit the way to the forest easily. As soon as they reached the border of the forest, Severus pointed his wand at Regulus and removed the Disillusionment charm.

Severus and Regulus exchanged glances. There was nothing for it but to keep going. They moved into the forest. It was eerily silent under the vast canopy of dark leaves. The nocturnal creatures were predators, Severus knew, and not likely to create sound that would alert their prey.

"Lumos," Severus whispered, and soft light streamed from his wand. Next to him, Regulus whispered the same.

"This way," said Severus, as he moved off to the left. "I've picked fluxweed here before. There's a cluster nearby."

_Nearby _did not mean _devoid-of-danger_. Severus watched the twig and leaf-cluttered forest floor carefully as they walked, and knew that Regulus was keeping just as sharp a look out. Their twin wand lights swayed gently on the mossy ground beneath their feet.

The silence was startling, and was made even more so by the darkness. Besides the few streaks of bright moonlight, the forest was dark as pitch. Severus could barely see Regulus even though the other boy was right beside him. He was very aware of the fact that they were being watched by creatures they couldn't see, but he was careful not to let his step falter and not to let any fear show. As they progressed, Severus realized that he was very in-tune with Regulus. They moved together, breathed together, and when Regulus grasped the back of his shirt, a quiet hiss warning him to stop, Severus stopped.

Their wand lights shone.

A Gytrash stood there, a giant, luminous dog, its teeth showing in a snarl as it backed slowly away from the light. The dog's eyes were bright and beady, and Severus knew that if not for their gently glowing Lumos spells, the spectral beast would have attacked. As it was, the creature's forked tail still swung erratically, and Severus wasn't sure that it wouldn't try to harm them even with the light.

Only the sound of an even more terrifying creature caused the Gytrash to pause in its gravelly growl and swivel its head away from Severus and Regulus.

A howl rent the air.

The Gytrash lost all interest in the two boys. It turned and ran, faster than Severus could follow.

"Oh, Merlin," whispered Regulus as the howl sounded again, closer this time. "Werewolf."

Severus didn't try to argue. He knew that Regulus was right. A werewolf was on the loose tonight. There was no mistaking its horrifying cry. It could probably smell them already.

"Hurry," said Severus, and he began walking quickly, desperate to find the fluxweed and return to the safety of the castle. He watched for landmarks as they moved. The strange blue rock, the tree that curved like an old man, the large marble hand – a remnant from a statue of long ago. These signs told him they were close.

But not close enough.

This time, it was Severus who stopped first. The air changed around him, became warmer, muskier, with a smell like thick, wet fur. The werewolf was close. Severus could hear it breathing, quite distinguishable from the shallow pants of Regulus, who stood next to him, clutching his arm but otherwise not moving. Severus stopped breathing. He stood as still as he possibly could, and held his wand between fingers that were white.

A twig snapped. Regulus flinched. The werewolf leaped.

Severus clenched his eyes shut, raised his wand, and began casting all the shield charms he knew. But something happened then that he did not expect. The werewolf was thrown off course by a giant dog, black like the Gytrash, but not the same. With a series of mad barks, the dog tackled the werewolf just before it reached Severus and Regulus. The two beasts fell to the ground howling. A moment later, a third set of footsteps sounded behind them, and another giant animal, this one topped with antlers, soared past them so quickly that Severus actually staggered. Amazingly, the great horned beast joined the dog in the fight against the werewolf.

"Let's go," whispered Regulus urgently. "Hurry, Severus. Let's go now. While it's distracted."

They ran. Severus knew they were nearly upon the fluxweed, and he did not slow as they reached its growing place. Wand out, Severus cast first a cutting charm, then a summoning charm, and caught the fluxweed as they continued to run. The sounds of the raging fight were still close behind them, and Severus was not too proud to get out of the forest as fast as he was able. Apparently, neither was Regulus. They both ran as if hellhounds were on them, and did not stop until they broke free of the trees and the castle was in view.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry stayed crouched in the courtyard by the entrance to the castle. Years of Auror training had ensured that he could stay like this in one position, immobile, for hours before his limbs grew weary and numb. His training also ensured that half a second was all he would need to unfold, to leap up, to defend or attack as needed.

But he did neither.

He simply crouched, hidden in the darkness, and waited.

He wasn't quite sure what he was waiting for. Was it his father, and Sirius, and Remus? Was he hiding there in the dark to see them safely return come morning? Or was it Severus. Severus, who Harry could not hate, and could not seem to stop thinking about. Or was it something else entirely? His hero complex, perhaps? He could almost hear Hermione's voice in his head.

_It's not your fault, Harry. You were born to worry about people, and destined to save them. _

Mental-Hermione knew him too well. He couldn't wait it out in the comfort of his own rooms like any normal person, could he? No. He would crouch there in the courtyard until his legs fell off, to see the people he cared about return safely. He loved them, after all.

_There's a good lad_, said Moody's voice this time. _Constant Vigilance. _

Harry rolled his wand gently between his fingers. The smooth holly comforted him. Sometimes, when it was very still and quiet, Harry could hear his wand whispering to him. It had been so since he mended it, all those years ago, with the Elder Wand. Harry had always known that the bond between wizard and wand was special, and even though he didn't need to constantly use his wand, he would never give it up. He hadn't just fixed his wand. He had healed it. And in return, the wand would ever remain completely and utterly faithful and obedient to him alone.

In the darkness, the whispers of his wand sounded like phoenix song. And Harry knew, long before he watched Severus and Regulus return to the castle, and long before morning came, and with it four very tired, but relieved Marauders, that there would be no serious harm done to any in the forest that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello all! So, I tried to get this chapter out last week, but I had a hard time with this one. It didn't want to be written quickly. So, sorry about the wait.

To all of my readers and reviewers, thank you! To **Jordina**, your review made my heart smile. Thankyouthankyouthankyou!

Warnings: a bit of boy-on-boy in this one, folks. just so you know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I just play with the characters.

Once again, please review! And enjoy!

**Chapter Eight – Detention, Mr. Snape!**

Excitement crackled the air in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom on Tuesday. Students sat straight up and leaning forward in their seats, their eyes wide and their mouths curved in expectant smiles. Severus sneered at the lot of them, but even he could not suppress a slight itch of anticipation. Like all the others, his eyes were trained on the front of the room, where Professor James, as was customary, stood smiling absently at them. The professor's expression was carefully blank, but Severus could not help but notice that his eyes lingered on the Gryffindor side of the room.

Severus could understand why. Lupin was missing. The first absence of many, no doubt. The young Gryffindor boy was always sick, a fact which simply confirmed his weak status in Severus's eyes. Normally, Lupin's absence would not concern him. But today, watching as Professor James nodded and smiled at the other Gryffindors, watching as they seemed to draw courage from that smile, Severus felt his gut rolling. He almost wished that Lupin were present, just so that Professor James wouldn't pay the Gryffindors any special attention.

_They act as if they have a secret_, he thought bitterly. _But I'm the one with the secret, remember? _He looked down at his arms, unmarked, but bearing the weight of an Unbreakable Vow. _I'm the one with the secret. _

Severus shook his head angrily. Leave it to the Gryffindors to reduce his thoughts to childish boasts without even lifting a finger. What was he, a First Year all over again?

As if he had heard his thoughts loud and clear, Professor James chose that moment to glance at Severus. He smiled crookedly, and Severus kept the heat from his face only by extreme force of will.

"Good morning, Sixth Years!" said Professor James, a little too brightly in Severus's opinion.

"Good morning, Professor James," some of the students intoned.

The professor didn't seem to mind. He just grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Now, I'm sure you all have forgotten already, what with the laziness of the weekend, but I promised last class that we could try a bit of dueling today."

The students had not forgotten. At the professor's words, they all sat up as straight as they could. A few of the Ravenclaws were in danger of leaping to their feet in excitement. Professor James's mouth remained curved in a small grin, but his eyes were laughing.

"Alright, you all know how to duel, so I won't go through the ceremony of reminding you," announced the professor. "I'm going to pair you up, and if I hear a single peep of argument, that person will spend the duel sitting lonesome at their desk."

The students pressed their lips together.

The professor actually did laugh this time. "Here we go, then. Lily Evans and Sirius Black. James Potter and Vendra Irmandis. Severus Snape and Alexander Crown. Rodolphus Lestrange and…"

Severus stopped listening as he turned to face the Ravenclaw. Crown, one of the over-eager students in class, lost part of his enthusiasm. Severus sized him up and sniffed. This would be no match at all.

"Remember!" cried the professor over the loud buzzing of student voices. "You are disarming and shielding only! The point of this exercise is to see how well you can use your new meditation techniques while casting spells." He looked carefully at each student. "If I see any spell that is not either Protego or Expelliarmus, the caster will have detention faster than he can raise a wand."

The students nodded. Professor James smiled pleasantly and flicked his wand. The desks and chairs flew to the sides of the room and stacked themselves neatly.

"Begin," he said, and hopped up on his desk to watch.

Severus turned back to Crown just as the other boy flicked his wand. Severus quickly raised a shield charm, and Crown's spell fizzled to nothing before it even reached Severus. Shouts echoed around the room. Yells of "Expelliarmus!" and resounding calls of "Protego!" bounced off the walls. Severus allowed the sounds to wash over him, and focused instead on blocking his mind.

Unlike Professor James, he could not yet pierce the thoughts of his opponent. He did not know when Crown was likely to cast again, just as Crown did not know that Severus was mere moments away from casting his own disarming spell. Instead of trying to figure out when Crown was going to attack, Severus focused his mind intensely. He thought of his memory, the safest one he had, and for a minute, he was eleven years old again, and just stepping onto the Hogwarts Express, leaving his muggle father behind. He sat down in an empty compartment, stared out the window, and felt his muscles relax for the first time in his life.

Just as the professor had instructed, Severus let the safety and security of that moment fill his mind. He thought of nothing but that feeling, and when he raised his wand and cast his own nonverbal Expelliarmus, it was strong enough to send Crown flying across the room. Severus had to stop himself from gasping out loud at the sensation the simple spell sent through him. His disarming spells had never been so powerful before. A glance around the room told him that some of the other students were experiencing the same feeling.

Vendra was dueling James Potter, and both of them had their eyes narrowed in fierce determination, but were smiling as if Christmas had come early. Rodolphus and Evan, who had been paired together, were casting spells that sparked with energy. Across the room, Lily Evans was a blazing whirlwind of red hair. Across from her, Black was laughing as he cast spells, his eyes alight with energy. The room buzzed with power to the point that Severus could not believe they were only casting the most basic disarming and shield charms.

Severus looked up at Professor James, who was watching the proceedings with a satisfied smile. "What do you know," Severus whispered. "It actually works."

He turned back to Crown, who was picking himself up off the floor. Severus easily deflected his next spell, and the one after that. He glanced at the professor again, and then back at Crown. Time to make things more interesting. He cast two disarming spells in quick succession, and as Crown hurried to deflect them, Severus cast a tripping jinx. Crown, already caught off guard by trying to shield two attacks, couldn't stop the third. He lost his footing completely and hit the ground with a hoarse shout.

"Mr. Snape!"

Professor James's voice carried above all the commotion in the room, and at the sound of it, the duels ceased.

The professor stared calmly at Severus. "I said disarming and shielding only, Mr. Snape. Detention. Tonight. My office at 7 o'clock sharp."

Severus tried to dip his head in a semblance of contrition, but the effect was rather skewed by his curving lips.

Perfect.

(SB-SB-SB)

"I mean it, Sirius, drop it," whispered James hastily as they left Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Sirius scowled. He always hated being told what to do, but especially hated it when he knew it was right. He should just drop it. He should. But he couldn't.

"Sorry, mate," said Sirius, almost as quietly. "If I could un-see Regulus and Snape out in the forest last night, you know I would. But I can't."

James shook his head. "I'm just as curious as you are, but really, Sirius, what does it matter? They're Slytherins, both of them. A nightly jaunt into the forest can't be at all unusual."

Sirius knew he should ignore the hint of a question in James's voice. Did it matter, really, if James wanted the truth just as much as he did? They were old enough to stay out of this kind of trouble by now. They were old enough to know better.

But Sirius did so hate being told what to do. "Let's go check on Remus," he suggested. Maybe that would take his mind off his troublesome younger brother.

"But Herbology…" said James slowly.

"I'm skiving," answered Sirius instantly. "You're not trying to tell me that plants are more important than Remus, are you?"

James scoffed. "Don't be stupid," he said. "Of course not."

"Besides," continued Sirius. "Peter will be there. He can fill us in later."

James nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I could use a break from staring at Snape's face."

"Exactly," said Sirius, his voice satisfied. "Let's go."

They walked briskly toward the Hospital Wing, eager to see their friend.

"No visitors," said Madam Pomfrey the moment they showed their faces.

Sirius and James began babbling all over themselves to try to convince her to let them in.

"But, Madam Pomfrey, he needs his friends."

"We don't have class right now, honest!"

"Please?"

"Couldn't we just pop in and say hello?"

"I think one of the scratches I got last night hasn't healed properly…"

"Oh, all right!" said the nurse, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Come in. But when I say out, you're out!" She paused and ran a critical eye over Sirius. "And I'll be wanting to see that scratch again, Mr. Black."

He smiled coyly. "Of course."

Sirius and James made their way over to the only bed in the ward that had curtains drawn around it. When they peeked inside, Remus was awake and sitting up, reading.

"Hey, Remus," said Sirius quietly as he pulled the curtain aside.

Remus's smile split his face, and Sirius felt a knot in his stomach unwind itself. At least Remus was okay. At least there was that.

"Sirius!" said Remus brightly, though his voice was soft and slightly hoarse. "James!" His smile slipped a tiny bit as he glanced between the two of them. "Aren't you supposed to be in Herbology right now?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's a stupid class anyway. Should've dropped it." He pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Besides, I didn't want to wait to see you."

James pulled a chair up as well. "How are you feeling, mate?"

Remus rolled his shoulders and shrugged. "Sore. Sensitive to light. I've been vomiting some. No different than normal."

Sirius cast a careful eye over his friend. He looked… bad. And that was probably casting his condition in a better light than it deserved. Remus looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a troll. And the troll had won. His body was covered in a wide spattering of bruises, all purple and blue and yellow, none of them fully healed despite Madam Pomfrey's best potions. His arms had a variety of cuts and scrapes, large and small, some of them still bleeding. His face was thin and his cheeks hollow, as if he had not eaten for a week. His eyes were dark and tired.

But still he smiled. Smiled at his friends who had given him many of those oozing cuts and blackened bruises.

Sirius swallowed thickly.

Remus noticed his ashen face. "Hey," he said quietly. "Stop that."

Sirius glanced at James and then looked back at Remus. "It just makes me sick. That some of this is because of me." He reached out hesitantly, as if to touch the ring of deep indents circling Remus's left wrist. Teeth marks. From a dog. Sirius dropped his hand and looked away.

Remus pulled the sleeve of his hospital robe lower over his hands. He reached out and cupped Sirius's chin. "Stop that right now. It's not your fault. You did what you had to do." He cut his glance over to James. "Both of you. I, at least, remember how much worse it was without the two of you there to keep me out of trouble."

James smiled, but Sirius could only manage a weak grin.

Still, Remus nodded firmly, as if the matter was done and over with. "Now, tell me what happened. I imagine something, if you were so preoccupied you had to come visit me instead of going to class."

Sirius did smile now at his insightful friend, and he and James, alternating as was their custom, told him of running into Snape and Regulus in the forest. Remus listened in silence, but by the end of the tale, his frown was quite deep and he looked white enough to faint.

"I almost attacked them," he said quietly. He shook his head slowly. "I don't remember much. But I remember smelling human. I remember my hunt being interrupted. That was you, wasn't it?"

Sirius nodded while trying to show how unaffected he was by hearing Remus casually talk about hunting humans.

"I didn't get a good look at their faces," said James wistfully, "but I bet their expressions were priceless."

"How can you even say that?" asked Remus sharply. "How can you say that about two students? I don't care who they are – yes, even if it is Snape! – no one deserves to have a werewolf coming after them."

James looked down, abashed.

"But what were they doing out there?" asked Sirius. "That's what I want to know."

"It's not like we're going to find out," said Remus logically. "Not unless Snape suddenly decides to start being civil. Or Regulus. But that's even more unlikely than Snape."

Sirius frowned darkly, but kept quiet. His younger brother was not a pleasant topic for conversation.

Luckily, they were saved from further discussions about Slytherins by Madam Pomfrey, who swept around the curtain with her arms crossed and her mouth set in a thin line. "That's quite long enough," she said, and motioned for Sirius and James to rise. "Up. Out. Mr. Lupin needs his rest."

Sirius and James patted Remus gently on the head – the only place that had escaped bruising – and ruffled his hair and promised to come back after dinner.

"Not so fast, Mr. Black!" said the nurse before they could leave the Hospital Wing. "I want a look at this scratch of yours."

Sirius waved James off – "No, don't wait, I'll catch up" – and whipped off his robe. He lifted one corner of his shirt casually and tried not to wince as Madam Pomfrey's cool fingers probed the not-quite-healed cuts on the right side of his stomach.

"You didn't drink your entire healing potion last night, did you, Mr. Black?"

Sirius smiled sheepishly and didn't answer.

Ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey released him from the Hospital Wing with strict orders that he better not show his face again for at least five hours or she would report to Professor McGonagall that he had skipped class.

Sirius waved cheerfully and left.

On his way down to the Great Hall for lunch, he ran right into Regulus. The two boys rounded a corner at the same moment and nearly smacked heads. After regaining their balance, they simply stood and stared at each other in silence for long moments. Though equal in height, there was not much else about them that was similar. Where Sirius was wild, Regulus was calm. Where Sirius was buzzing with energy, Regulus was firmly controlling it.

"All right, Reg?" asked Sirius quietly, using the nickname he knew his brother hated. "You look tired."

It was true. There were dark circles under his calm eyes, eyes that narrowed into heavily lidded slits as Sirius spoke.

"I could say the same for you, dear brother," breathed Regulus. "I would hate to have to tell mother you've not been sleeping properly."

Sirius felt his hands clench into fists, but he otherwise ignored the threat. He knew his mother could ultimately care less about his sleeping habits, but one word from Regulus, and Sirius would get a Howler.

"Not necessary," replied Sirius as indifferently as he could manage. "I'm simply expressing concern for your wellbeing, Reg. Not getting into any trouble, are you?"

Something in Sirius's tone made Regulus pause before he answered. _That's it,_ thought Sirius. _Give me a reaction. _Regulus smiled blandly, but it didn't quiet reach his eyes, which were sharp and hard and watching Sirius carefully.

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, brother, as I'm sure you know," said Regulus in his perfectly inflectionless voice. "Despite our rather large differences, we do both share a love for independence."

Sirius grinned, wolf-like, and nodded. "Very well. Maybe I'll run into you again soon, brother."

He didn't give Regulus time to respond, he just brushed past and continued on to the Great Hall, his smile gone now, his expression curious.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus felt the minutes laughing at him as they ticked slowly on, hour after hour, but never fast enough. After Defense, he couldn't seem to focus on anything. He nearly cut his thumb off in Herbology as he was trying to harvest dittany sap. At lunch, he merely sat quietly, brooding, trying and failing not to look up at the staff table, choking on his own breath when Professor James caught his eye and winked, and completely neglecting to take a single bite of food.

Transfiguration was possibly the worst of all.

He stood glowering at James Potter, never quite able to make his conjuring spells as exact or as perfect as the Gryffindor Prefect's.

"Like so, Mr. Snape," said McGonagall. She demonstrated the motion to draw up an armchair out of thin air, and watched Severus critically.

He tried, he really did, but Transfiguration wasn't his specialty, and he couldn't make an armchair appear as comfortable and inviting as James Potter could.

Finally the period ended, and Severus stalked back to the Slytherin Common Room in a mood foul enough to frighten the First Years. He found a secluded spot, sat down, spread his parchments and books and quills around him, and glared through eyes that dared someone to sit down next to him.

Vendra, apparently, didn't notice his look.

She pranced over, her purple hair swishing, and spread out her own books and writing materials. She took out her star chart, glanced at Severus, and smiled knowingly.

"Vendra," he growled warningly.

She widened her eyes innocently.

Severus rolled his own eyes. "Just don't bother me," he muttered darkly.

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Vendra, placating. She patted his arm, dipped a quill in a bottle of ink, and began drawing out some quick calculations for Astronomy.

Severus eyed her for a moment, to make sure she wouldn't start talking about Potter or Black or the forest or his detention that night, and then turned to his own work. He had a massive essay for Arithmancy that he hadn't even started yet, and he couldn't find his book of rune translations for Ancient Runes homework.

For quite a few minutes, he and Vendra worked in a companionable silence. Then, Vendra opened her mouth.

"Did you notice that Remus was missing today?" she asked.

It took a moment for Severus to figure out who she meant. "Lupin, you mean," he said absently. "Yes, I noticed."

"I missed him," Vendra confided. "He always seems to tone the others down a bit, don't you think?"

"I suppose," agreed Severus slowly. "Why the sudden interest in Lupin?"

Vendra looked up, but before she could answer, Regulus Black sat down across from them, his expression troubled. He glanced at Vendra quickly, dismissed her as any sort of threat, and then turned to Severus.

"Sirius knows," he said simply.

Severus blinked. "Pardon?"

"Sirius knows about last night," repeated Regulus. "He knows I was out in the forest."

"Impossible," countered Severus at once.

Regulus shook his head. "Maybe he doesn't know I was out in the forest specifically, but he knows I was out of bed last night."

Vendra looked carefully between the two of them. "How could he?" she asked quietly.

"He couldn't," snapped Severus. "There's no way. We weren't followed. I made sure of it."

Regulus turned heated eyes on him. "And I'm telling you, he knows. I don't know how, but he does."

Severus took a deep breath, and then another. "All right," he said, his voice softer now. "All right. Let's assume that he does know. What does this mean for us?"

Regulus leaned back and crossed his arms. "Nothing. It doesn't mean anything. Just that we need to be more careful. And that I might need to write a few letters home."

_We?_ Severus thought sharply, but let the matter drop.

Regulus sat with them for a few minutes more, and then left to join Rabastan Lestrange in another corner of the Common Room. Soon, Rodolphus and Evan appeared and all but demanded that Severus go with them to dinner, as he hadn't eaten lunch. That got Vendra on his back, too, and the three of them herded him out of the Common Room and down to the Great Hall before he could think of a single protest.

Yet even with his friends nagging that he eat, Severus could barely touch his dinner. Time, which had taunted him with its slowness earlier, now seemed to be moving too quickly. It was almost seven. Soon, he would be knocking on Professor James's door. Soon.

"You have to eat something, Severus," said Vendra, her tone pleading.

Severus dutifully took a bite of chicken. Evan spooned some boiled potatoes onto his plate, and Severus had a bite of those as well. The food tasted like ash in his mouth, and he swallowed it only because he didn't want to spit it out in front of his friends. At a quarter till, Severus stood woodenly from the table and absently waved goodbye to Rodolphus and Evan and Vendra, who sat watching him worriedly. He walked mechanically from the hall. Professor James had left ten minutes prior. Severus walked the route that he imagined Professor James himself had taken, and tried to pinpoint why he was so nervous.

_Nervous_. It was a weak word. Weak and afraid. Severus was neither of those things. But his stomach felt empty and full at the same time, and he kept curling and uncurling his fingers. Anticipation. Anxiety. Why was he feeling these things?

He reached Professor James's office and stood outside the closed door for a solid three minutes before he raised his hand and knocked.

"Come in," said the professor at once, and Severus entered.

Professor James stood in front of his desk, his slight body encased in charcoal trousers and a dark blue sweater. His hair stood every which way, and his glasses glinted in the warm light that filled the room. The candles were giving off rich golden flames tonight, and the light and shadows danced and played across the professor's skin in a way that made Severus dizzy.

"Good evening, professor," said Severus politely as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Professor James smiled. "I think, Mr. Snape, that you should probably call me Harry for these little visits." His eyes twinkled. "I imagine we'll be seeing quite a lot of one another, and the formality will shortly weigh on my nerves."

Severus nodded and tasted the name on his tongue. _Harry_. It fit him more than James, more than Professor. "Very well," he agreed. "Then I insist you call me Severus." The words came out of his mouth with a hint of surprise. Severus very rarely invited anyone to address him by his first name. But it seemed right, and Harry took it in stride.

"You may remove your robes, if you wish," said Harry after a moment. "This isn't a real detention, after all."

Severus hesitated, but then decided that perhaps he would be more comfortable without his heavy robes. He shrugged out of the dark fabric and hung it on the hook that Harry indicated by the door. He glanced at his professor, and then loosened his tie marginally as well.

Harry gestured toward one corner of his office, which he had transformed into a miniature potions lab. There was a cauldron, and plenty of work space. There was also a wide variety of ingredients present. Everything that Severus had asked for.

"I hope I remembered all of it," said Harry. He smiled sheepishly. "Potions really aren't my strength."

Severus strode toward his new workspace. "That's why you have me," he said simply.

Harry looked momentarily startled. "Yes, I suppose so," he said slowly, after a moment. He clapped his hands together and made his smile bright enough to outshine the candles. "How do we start?"

Severus let his hand hover over the ingredient bottles. They were of all shapes and sizes, containing a multitude of plants, liquids, and animal bits. "Perhaps you could talk to me for a while. Tell me about yourself."

Harry paused. "Er, okay. Why?"

Severus looked up and spoke patiently. "The Reversal Potion is quite complex. I have to start with a base that represents you as a person. After a base is established, I can begin working on the formula that will reverse your time travel."

"Right," said Harry. "Wow. That actually makes sense!"

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Why so surprised?"

Harry laughed quietly to himself, as if he had a joke that Severus could never hope to understand. "Let's just say, my Potions instructors never really liked having to explain anything to me."

"That's actually a good place to start," said Severus. He raised his hand again and moved it slowly above the bottles. "Tell me about your time at school. Did you attend Hogwarts?"

As focused as he was on the ingredients, Severus still didn't miss the fond and wistful look that crossed Harry's face.

"Yes," said Harry. "I did. I was amazed when I got my Hogwarts Letter. I thought it had to be a joke."

Severus looked up sharply. "A joke?"

Harry nodded. "I didn't know I was a wizard, you see. I lived with my aunt and uncle, and they despised magic. Still do, as far as I know."

He said it so simply, so easily, as if it was no matter in the world. "What happened to your parents?" asked Severus.

Harry's brows drew together. "They died when I was young. I was raised by my mother's sister. I nearly wasn't allowed to attend Hogwarts when I finally got my letter, but, well, you can't really stop Dumbledore, can you?" Harry laughed quietly before continuing. "I was in Gryffindor."

Severus nodded. That wasn't entirely surprising. "I had assumed you were. But I had rather hoped…"

Harry stared at him curiously, forcing Severus to continue.

"It seems to me like you do possess some Slytherin qualities," said Severus finally.

Harry smiled again, privately, as if he knew many things of which Severus could not even begin to guess. "Some," agreed Harry, and left it at that.

Severus's hand stopped over one of the bottles. Yew. The symbol of death and resurrection. Severus set it aside. "Keep talking," he said, and Harry did.

Harry spoke of his first friends, Ron and Hermione, and some of the adventures they had while at school. He spoke of his boggart turning into a Dementor, and how he finally overcame his fear. He spoke of finding people he loved, of losing them, and then of being reminded that he still had people who cared for him and loved him. He spoke of Quidditch and flying. He spoke of magic. He spoke of joining the Aurors, and the exhaustive and intense training that it required.

As Severus listened, he pulled bottle after bottle aside. Spruce – a dominant plant. Sycamore – an enduring and strong plant. Wintergreen – a plant to soothe and calm fear. Lilly – a symbol of sorrow, and of danger. Ingredient after ingredient Severus pulled aside, until he had enough to create a small potions store of his own. When he finally looked up at Harry again, he blinked and swallowed.

Harry sat atop his desk, his legs slightly spread and swinging casually. His head fell to one side, and he had a faraway, nostalgic sheen in his eyes. His lips, slightly parted, looked a mix of rough and soft, and he slowly tapped one finger on the slight fullness of that rough lower lip. Severus swallowed again, and felt the blood leave his head. Harry blinked and noticed him looking. He sat up straighter.

"It's been a long time since I've told anyone about my school days," he admitted. "I don't like to talk about some of those things."

Severus felt a moment of intense and almost vicious triumph that Harry had told him, him and no one else. He stepped out from behind his cauldron slowly.

"I think I have all the necessary ingredients to begin a base," he said quietly. He moved even closer to Harry's desk. "I need some time to think about how to combine them."

Harry watched him moving closer, and now he was the one to swallow. Severus didn't know what had come over him, didn't understand this enveloping heat that forced him to move closer and closer to the man reclining on the desk. Harry seemed just as confused as he. He stood up and held out a hand.

"Stop, Severus," he commanded, his voice strong and steady. A voice that was used to being obeyed.

For a moment, Severus did stop. The hairs on his arms stood up, a delicious shiver crawled over his spine, and he took one tiny step forward. He wanted to hear Harry say his name again. Wanted it now.

"Stop," said Harry one more time, and this time his voice left no room for disobedience. It was stop or be stopped.

Severus stopped, but he did not take his eyes off of Harry. Harry, who for all of his dominance and strength, did not seem at all aware of the picture he made, standing there with his bedroom hair and sharp eyes.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?" asked Severus calmly.

"No," said Harry shortly, with a glint of something in his eyes that Severus did not try to decipher. "This meeting is over. Leave now, Mr. Snape."

Severus didn't move.

"We will meet again on Thursday, to begin your Occlumency and Legilimency lessons," said Harry. "But you will leave my office. Right. Now."

Severus turned and left, pulling his robe off the hook and out the door with him. He walked down the corridor as if in a trance. After a few moments, he blinked and began shaking his head.

"Stupid," he muttered, and stomped faster toward the Slytherin Common Room. "Stupid stupid stupid."

What had he been thinking? He hadn't been, obviously. Was incapable of it, apparently. What kind of an idiot was he, to act toward a professor in such a manner?

And yet. Yet. He still couldn't stop the blood rushing through his body, rushing and turning into liquid fire. He felt hot all over. And he was sure that if Harry were to suddenly appear in his path, Severus would not be able to stop himself like he had done in the office. He had never felt this immense heat in the presence of anyone else.

He reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, and bit out the password between clenched teeth. He ignored everyone present, and instead walked purposefully to his dorm. Rodolphus and Evan were the only ones inside, and they looked up immediately when Severus walked in. Something in his look froze them before they could say anything.

Severus locked eyes with Rosier. "Evan," he purred, and wondered if his eyes looked as molten as they felt. "I need you."

Evan gulped, but was up off his bed and over to Severus in three long strides. Severus felt himself grow taller, felt Evan stretch to reach him. His eyes traced the other boy's body, Evan leaned up, and their lips collided somewhere in the middle.

It was an immediate tangle of limbs. Severus growled into Evan's mouth, Evan moaned, and their lips met and separated, met and separated, before teeth clacked and tongues curled. Severus kissed as if he wanted the heat to leave him through his mouth, and Evan took it. Even when Severus began walking him backwards, their lips still connected, Evan didn't protest.

"Severus," he gasped, breathless, when the backs of his knees hit the edge of his own bed.

Severus wedged himself between willing legs. He felt an immediate flare of heat and need in his groin. "Tell me to stop," he whispered against Evan's lips. "Tell me to stop."

Evan shook his head roughly. "Don't stop," he hissed.

They fell ungracefully onto Evan's bed.

Rodolphus, who had been a silent spectator up until then, huffed angrily. "For the love of –" he started. "Use a silencing charm!"

Severus yanked the bed hangings closed, waved his wand quickly, and then leaned down once more. If he kissed hard enough, fast enough, then he could ignore the fact that these were the wrong lips under him. The wrong body. The wrong man.

He pushed those thoughts firmly to the back of his mind, and ripped Evan's shirt so hard the buttons flew off.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry sat behind his desk, shaking. He had thought he imagined it the first time he saw Snape looking at him _that _way.

But apparently he hadn't. Not if tonight was any indication.

There had been a moment, in a previous Defense class, when Harry had felt something greedy and lustful rear up inside him at the sight of Snape, but it hadn't happened again. And he hadn't thought that Snape felt it too.

But he had. Perhaps even more forcefully than Harry. And Harry didn't know if he could – if he would – ignore such a willing young man.

"Young," said Harry forcefully. "He's too young. Not yet seventeen."

He clung to that thought like a ray of light in the darkness.

There were so many reasons, so many, not to let himself get caught up with Snape. First of all was the fact that Snape was yet underage. Harry also wouldn't be in this time forever, and he didn't trust himself to not hurt Snape. He also didn't quite trust Snape. Not yet.

But he was so willing.

"Damn it, Severus," Harry muttered, and dropped his head into his hands.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey everyone! Look at this! I'm a whole week early. Woohooo! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, etc... You all are amazing!

**Jordina: **I cannot express with words how happy I am that we share the same love for Lupin. He's like, one of my favorite characters! And I'm so glad that you're enjoying the bits of Sirius/Remus I have going on. Don't worry, you haven't seen the last of them. As far as Snape and Harry go... anything between them is a long time coming and the furthest thing ever from romantic. I'm not planning on having either of them even utter the word "love" toward one another. They don't have love. Lust? Most definitely. Attraction? Absolutely. Love? Never in a million zillion years. Don't you worry. ;) And hopefully, when they finally do get all hot and heavy, it won't bother you too much.

**Sexymckittington and dogsby: **Thank you both for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

For everyone who's probably dying to see some action between Snape and Harry by now... DON'T WORRY! It will come. But this isn't meant to be a fast story. I like things to develop as they would normally, naturally. And you can't take someone like Snape, and someone like Harry, and throw them in a room together - even if it is dark and dank and in a dungeon - and have them crawling all over each other immediately. They have to test the waters first. Figure out strengths and weaknesses. Just don't give up, faithful readers! Hang in there with me, and you'll be rewarded!

Warnings: same old same old. check chapter two.

Disclaimer: not making any money here, folks.

Please review! And enjoy!

**Chapter Nine – Used and Abused**

Severus awoke in a bed that was not his own.

Panic crawled up his throat, but when he tried to sit up, a gentle hand restrained him. He looked to the side. Evan was lying next to him, his eyes wide. Severus blinked. And then he remembered. His stomach twisted in a painful spasm, and for a moment he thought he might be sick. He clenched his eyes shut. He didn't want to think about the fact that they were both naked under the slick green sheets.

"Evan," he said, his voice an anguished groan. "God, Evan, why did you… Why did I… Why didn't you stop me?"

Evan laughed lightly and raised his hand. He danced quick fingers over Severus's bare shoulder in an attempt to relax him. "Why would I do something like that?"

Severus felt like cotton had filled his mouth. "Did I –" He swallowed convulsively. "Did we…?"

"Have loud and passionate sex into the early hours of the morning?" finished Evan. "Why yes, Severus, yes we did."

Severus's eyes flew open and this time not even Evan could stop him from sitting bolt upright. The other Slytherin followed him with a laugh.

"Hey, calm down," he said. "I'm only joking."

Severus just stared at him blankly.

Evan sighed. "We didn't have sex, Severus, okay? We did a whole variety of other things, but we didn't have sex."

Severus released his breath slowly. "All right," he said. "But you still should have stopped me."

Evan shook his head delightedly. "Not if you'd offered me a thousand galleons would I have stopped you. You should've seen yourself, Severus. You were like an animal."

Severus glanced at his friend and sighed. "Evan…"

The other boy held up his hands. "I know, I know. Professor James got you all hot and bothered and you had to take it out on someone. Look, I know it's not going to be a regular occurrence. I'm not a girl, Severus. You aren't going to break my heart."

Severus finally allowed himself to smile. "Don't get used to it, Rosier. I was just a little frustrated last night is all."

Evan smiled his teasing smile, and his light green eyes glinted. "No harm done, mate. I bloody loved it."

Severus rolled his neck and stretched. He threw the sheets off his legs and stood unselfconsciously, though aware of the fact that Evan's eyes were on him. He found his wand on the floor next to Evan's bed, and with a lazy flick, summoned fresh clothes and his school robes.

"Check the time!" he called to Evan as he approached the bathrooms. "We've got less than an hour till Potions."

The other boy grumbled quietly, but after a long stretch of his own, rose from the bed as well. They busied themselves getting ready, their banter friendly, and their conversation no different than normal. Severus allowed himself a moment of appreciation for his friends; they were capable of dealing with all of his moods, as strange as some of them might be.

His good opinion, however, faltered slightly when he and Evan reached the Great Hall for breakfast. Rodolphus was already there, and he said not a word as the other two boys sat down. He did send Evan a concerned look, though Evan seemed not to even notice. Rodolphus then turned his gaze on Severus, and there was nothing at all friendly in his eyes.

Severus hunched his shoulders as if trying to hide behind them. All of his earlier doubts came flooding back, and he again questioned his conduct of the previous night.

_You didn't hurt him, did you? _Rodolphus's look seemed to say.

Severus shrugged helplessly and shook his head. _I hope not. Not intentionally. _

Rodolphus peered at him for a moment more, and then turned away. He wasn't angry, then. Just worried. He had no more right to blame or question Severus than Severus had right to do the same for him. They were Slytherins, after all, and involved in the treacherous power plays of a Dark Lord. They all had their little ticks. Evan flirted with everything that moved. Rodolphus killed spiders. And sometimes, Severus couldn't control his sexual exploits.

In Slytherin House, these oddities were known simply as the Backlash. There was another, more complicated term for it which no one cared to learn. At some point in time, in way or another, most Slytherins experienced it. Of course, no one spoke of it openly. Students discovered the Backlash only through rumors, whispers, and experience.

The Backlash was simple enough to understand. It was caused by a buildup of black magic. In Hogwarts, where there was very little opportunity for Slytherins to practice magic of the darker variety, the excess of blackness and negativity within them needed some sort of outlet. The result was the Backlash, a series of spontaneous and often aggressive actions performed by most Slytherins at one point or another in their seven years at school.

Light wizards had a Backlash as well, though it was not known as such, and it usually involved nauseating cheerfulness and an unfortunate desire to do good deeds.

Severus felt sick just thinking about it.

However, his own Backlash left him feeling queasy this morning, and throughout breakfast he kept casting nervous glances at Evan, worried that he had used his friend. Evan, on the contrary, seemed completely unaffected. He joked and flirted and talked as usual, and by the time they left the hall for Potions, both Severus and Rodolphus had managed to relax.

The easy atmosphere held for the rest of the day. Severus enjoyed his time with Rodolphus and Evan, was able to talk some with Vendra, and didn't even let Potter and his gang of Gryffindors bring him down. Not like they tried. They were a subdued lot. Severus figured it had something to do with Lupin still being sick and in hospital.

Severus was careful, however, to keep a close watch on Sirius Black. He didn't know for sure if Regulus really had any right to be so confident that Black knew about their little foray into the forest. The brothers, after all, hardly got on. Severus never even saw them speak with one another. He did notice, though, that Black's eyes, the few times he did glance their way, were sharp and calculating. Not at all the eyes of a do-good Gryffindor.

Despite the Gryffindors, Severus's mood – not necessarily a good one, but _decent_ – lasted until after dinner, when he decided to visit the library and finish some homework. There, in the dusty, quiet, cavernous library, his decent mood was obliterated.

Lily and Potter were sitting at his favorite table – _his table!_ – their heads bent over what appeared to be Transfiguration homework. Severus did not at all like the way their shoulders nearly touched. He definitely did not like the way that strands of Lily's fiery hair curled over Potter's left shoulder, how his fingers brushed hers as they reached to turn a page in their shared book, how they _laughed _together.

Severus slunk into the library, hidden behind raised shoulders and hair as black as Potter's, but with none of the same life or spirit. He felt small despite his height, meaningless despite is obvious superiority to both of them, and completely and utterly miserable. He sat at a table a bit behind them, and glowered.

He got no work done, and only felt like he could breathe easily when Potter, with an awkward goodbye and a half-hug, gathered his things and left Lily sitting alone.

Severus felt his fingers clenching spasmodically around his wand, felt himself rise. His plan was to follow Potter. He could catch him in the corridor. He could easily get one good hex in before Potter even knew he was there. But his feet had other ideas. While his brain was still formulating the probability of getting away with an attack on Potter, his body began moving toward Lily, toward her table. Before his mind and his motions caught up, he was standing in front of her, and she was glaring up at him.

"Lily," he said, and hated how desperate he sounded, how choked. He felt breathless, and angry, and threatened. And it was all _her _fault.

She didn't even answer him. She simply dipped her quill into a bottle of blue ink and scratched another sentence onto the half-filled parchment before her.

Severus sat down across from her. He saw her tense, but she kept on steadily and did not look up.

"Lily," he said again, quietly, too quietly, and with that same sickening tone of desperation. "Lily, why…?"

She threw down her quill. An angry blue smear spread across her essay, but it was nothing compared to the fire in her eyes. Her brilliant, piercing green eyes. "Why what, Snape?" she asked, and her voice seethed. It slid across the table like oil and slapped Severus in the face. "Why am I in the library? Why am I working on Transfiguration homework? You'll have to be a little more specific."

Severus felt the color leave his face, and then rush back in a flush that suffused his normally pale cheeks. "Why do you spend time with _him_?" he demanded, and he knew his voice was just as harsh as hers had been.

Lily began throwing her things into her bag. Her lips thinned to bloodlessness, and her teeth grated so loudly Severus could hear it. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I wasn't allowed to pick my own friends now. Unless you think he's too good for me. After all, what right does a mudblood like me have to hang around with a pureblood like him?"

The insult, coming from her lips, sounded crueler to Severus than he had ever imagined it could be.

Lily stood in a frenzy of flying red tresses. "Then again, if I can't be friends with mere half-bloods, what could I have possibly thought would come of spending time with James?" Her eyes blazed. "Since I so obviously don't deserve him."

Severus had to restrain a flinch.

Lily smiled and bowed mockingly, condescendingly. "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty."

She spun, and for all of her anger, she left the library slowly, gracefully, as if to show Severus that she would not even bend low enough to stomp. Her retreat hit him like a physical blow. He sat, unmoving, for a long time.

"That is what I am, isn't it?" he said finally, quietly to himself. "A prince." He laughed, and it was devoid completely of humor. "A Half-Blood Prince."

He knew he had brought her wrath upon himself. He had dug his grave the day he called her a mudblood.

He thought he should be feeling vile, contemptible, unworthy.

Instead, he just felt empty.

(HP-HP-HP)

There was something wrong with Snape. Harry sensed it the moment he walked through the door. For a brief second, Harry considered changing his planned mode of instruction, but then he remembered Snape's arrogant confidence, his brash actions, and decided to carry on with what he had planned.

He stepped out from behind his desk, raised his wand, and barely gave Snape enough time to hang up his school robe before he chanted, "Legilimens!"

Instantly, he was in Snape's mind. He had caught the Slytherin completely unawares, and though it was not in his nature, he took advantage of it.

_What's wrong with you tonight, Severus? _he thought. He chose a memory, a bright, pulsating thought, and unfolded it.

His mother swam before his eyes, young, beautiful, and outspoken. There was an argument, harsh words, and then the memory crumpled, folded in on itself, and changed.

_Severus was in bed. His mouth moved hotly over the flat chest of another boy. Loud panting filled the… _

_Severus sat on the floor, his long legs folded under him, adding ingredients to a thick, bubbling potion… _

_Severus was watching Lily. Her hair swayed, lulling him into a trance…_

_Severus was bent double in the bathroom, heaving, vomiting his lunch after a particularly nasty hex hurled at him by Sirius Black…_

_NOOOOO!_

A wall of vines and thorns grew in front of Harry's eyes. Severus's memories, his thoughts, suddenly lay quite out of reach, behind the thorns that threatened to prick Harry's own searching mind. Quickly, painlessly, he withdrew.

Severus still stood by the door, but he was breathing heavily, as if he had run a long distance, and his black eyes were wide. He stared at Harry as if he had never seen him before.

"What was that?" Severus whispered. "What did you do to me?"

"That, Mr. Snape," began Harry, "was Legilimency."

Snape shook his head aggressively. "No. No it wasn't. That wasn't anything like what you've done in class."

Harry felt a momentary spasm of sympathy, but he quickly repressed it. _He has to learn. _"There are many kinds of Legilimency, Mr. Snape. And I will teach you all."

Snape hovered by the door, wary. Harry didn't need to be a master Legilimens to understand the younger man's inner struggle. However, it helped that he had been an almost-Slytherin. He could practically see Snape's mind working.

When the young Slytherin finally did move forward, to sit in the chair in front of Harry's desk, it was not simply because he wanted to learn Legilimency. It was because he wanted to learn how to use it against others. He was focused solely on the advantage it could bring him as a weapon.

Harry smiled grimly and pulled a chair around so he was sitting across from Snape without a desk between them. As he sat, he cast a wandless, nonverbal spell to heighten the shadows in the room, and also one to make himself appear taller. He did not want Snape to be too comfortable, after all.

Tonight's lesson wasn't going to be just about Legilimency and Occlumency. Harry would show Snape that he would not, could not, be used. Harry felt that Snape had so far completely underestimated him. There was danger in wavering lines, in water-thin boundaries, in undisciplined behavior. Snape must be taught that Harry was not a person to take advantage of, and Harry would teach him, one way or another.

_I'm not the same as I was when I was his age_, Harry thought, somewhat sadly. _Not the same at all. _

He was harder now. He had scars that ran deeper than flesh, and Snape must be taught. There was no choice, especially not with his current _fascination _in Harry.

"Occlumency," Harry started, in a clear, cold voice, "like I've been teaching in class, is the art of blocking one's mind to attack by Legilimency. It can also be a useful technique for harnessing and channeling one's magic." Harry looked at Snape steadily. "I trust you've been practicing?"

Snape nodded wordlessly.

"Very well," said Harry. "You will need those skills tonight."

Snape tried to restrain it, but Harry saw the delicate shiver that coursed over his body. He smiled mirthlessly.

"What you experienced when you came in, Mr. Snape, was not the worst type of Legilimency there is."

Snape blinked.

"There is another way of entering the mind, a vicious way, that even I am hesitant to use upon a student."

Snape sat up straighter. "I want to learn," he said, and Harry was pleased to note that his voice did not waver.

Harry raised his wand. "Prepare yourself, then," he said, and cast the spell.

He entered Snape's mind like a knife. Distantly, he heard Snape cry out. But it was far away. Vague. Of little importance to Harry, who was nothing more than consciousness, a fully formed mind stabbing through a lesser one. He didn't let the memories come to him this time, he reached for them, grabbed for them, and then flung them away just as carelessly. He did not stop long enough to read any particular thought or emotion. He just slashed through Snape's mind, and when he felt that Snape had had enough, pulled out.

Snape was gasping for breath and sweating. He sat hunched, his arms wrapped around his stomach, his eyes clenched shut. Harry shivered, and felt a lance of remorse sweep through him.

"That was the worst it will ever be," whispered Harry, and his voice came out breathy, as if he too had been gasping for air. "That type of Legilimency is unfeeling, pitiless, merciless."

He watched Snape open his eyes. Watched his breathing slow.

"It is not my preferred method of Legilimency," said Harry. "I will not use it on you again."

Snape nodded shortly. He did not look angry, but his eyes were guarded. He unwound his arms and curled his long fingers around the edge of his chair, as if to brace himself.

"Take a moment to clear your mind," said Harry gently. "Breathe. In and out. Slowly. Find your safety. Your security."

With each word that Harry spoke, Snape's shoulders relaxed a fraction. Soon, he was breathing easily again.

"Ready?" asked Harry, and waited for Snape's nod. "This one will not hurt. I promise. Legilimens!"

He entered Snape's mind like a caress. Where before he had slashed and stabbed, now he stroked the memories into being, coaxed them out of the dark recesses of Snape's mind, and they came to him. Easily he crooned to each thought, each memory, until they were unfolding before his eyes like flowers, eager to be seen. Harry let this continue for only a minute, and then he retreated from Snape's mind once again.

Snape's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. His hands curled and uncurled from around the seat of his chair, and he leaned forward, toward Harry, nearly holding his breath.

"That was…" he started, and had to stop to lick dry lips. "That was…"

"Also not my preferred method of entering one's mind," admitted Harry, suddenly put on edge by the glazed look in Snape's eyes. He hadn't meant to remind the boy of his inappropriate feelings toward Harry.

"What do you prefer, then?" asked Snape. "If none of these."

Harry tilted his head to one side. "I prefer a more subtle approach," he said. "But also the one that is most dangerous."

Snape opened his mouth, clearly confused, but Harry was quicker. He raised his wand one more time, and whispered the spell. This time, Harry did not try to look through any of Snape's memories. He simply sat there, unmoving, and watched Snape, who did not seem at all aware of the fact that Harry was in his mind. He looked more and more troubled by the minute, in fact, and finally asked, "Did it not work?"

Harry smiled. Though he was not making an effort to sift through Snape's thoughts, he was acutely aware of the boy's mind, both conscious and unconscious. Had he wanted to, he could have easily picked through any of Snape's thoughts, without Snape ever knowing.

"Oh no," said Harry pleasantly. "It worked perfectly."

"But I can't feel anything at all," argued Snape. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, became sharp and severe. "I can't feel anything. But you're in there, aren't you?" He tapped the side of his head. "You're in there right now. You could do whatever you want. See whatever you want."

"And you would never know," finished Harry quietly, and withdrew from Snape's mind. "The true Legilimens prefers this approach. The others, they are used only if you desire causing pain, or pleasure. But this approach, well, it is infinitely more disastrous and dangerous than any of the others."

Harry hoped that Snape would feel frightened by this, threatened perhaps, by the knowledge that Harry could at any time slip unnoticed into his thoughts. But instead he appeared eager. His dark eyes glimmered, and his breathing was shallow, excited, as if he was aroused by what Harry had shown him.

_It's the power_, Harry thought suddenly, and knew that he was right. _He's attracted to the power. _

He could see it clearly now. This Snape, this sixteen-year-old Snape, probably already firmly in Voldemort's hand, would seek power like a moth to flame. It was nothing more than his nature. He craved power, sought it, and had found it in his new professor.

Harry swallowed. This had not been part of the plan. He had hoped to scare Snape off tonight, to show him that playing games with Harry was not wise. What else could he do, apart from relentlessly attacking his mind?

"When can I learn this?" asked Snape, still with the glimmer in his eye.

Harry stood suddenly and moved behind his desk. He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps never," he said, musingly.

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. "But we agreed," he said quickly. "I'm making the potion for you. And you're to teach me. We agreed."

Harry stood as tall as he could. With the help of his earlier wandless spell, he appeared to loom over the desk, and shadows danced dark and sharp around him. "I am not an easy man, Severus," Harry said, his voice a purr. _He would not be played with. _"If I think – for even one second – that you are taking advantage of our agreement, of me, then I will not hesitate to show you just how hard I can be." He glanced Snape up and down, and cast his eyes away as if what he saw was nothing new. "You think you are the first to be seduced by this?" Harry gestured at large, to the room, the atmosphere, but they both knew he meant the _power _in the air. "Not the first."

Harry smoothed his hands over his dark clothes, black trousers, black sweater, and walked slowly toward a cabinet in the far corner of his office. From within its confines he took two bottles of potion, turned, and handed them to Snape. "Headache potion. Dreamless Sleep," he said. "You'll need to take them both."

Snape took the bottles without a word and rose from his chair. Even with Harry's spell, Snape towered.

"Practice Occluding tonight, before you fall asleep," said Harry. "Next time, I'll have you try and block me."

Snape nodded. His lips were tight, as if he held back all manner of things he wanted to say, but he turned soundlessly to the door.

"Remember, Mr. Snape!" called Harry. "I will not be used."

(SS-SS-SS)

By the time he made it back to the Common Room, Severus felt as if his head might split open. He downed the headache potion Harry had given him before muttering the password, and stumbling nearly blind into an almost empty Common Room.

Vendra, at least he thought it was Vendra, caught him round the middle as he lurched toward the boys' dorms, and whispered urgently as she helped him walk.

"Oh, Severus," she said, her voice worried. "I told you it was a bad idea. I told you not to mess with him."

Severus barely heard her, and even then he didn't understand what she was saying. She got him as far as the door to his dormitory, and then Severus went on alone. He uncorked the Dreamless Sleep as he tripped toward his bed, swallowed it in one gulp. He collapsed on his sheets, still fully clothed, and enjoyed the clarity that made its way slowly through him. The potions were working.

He was meant to feel intimidated, he knew. Perhaps he was even meant to feel scared.

But Severus felt neither of those things.

If Harry would not be used, then Severus would certainly not be intimidated.

He was a Slytherin. A mere taste of power was never enough. Never satisfying.

The Dreamless Sleep hit him. He drifted. Before blackness took him, he tried to do as Harry had instructed. He tried to Occlude. But his safe memories eluded him, like smoke in the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, everyone! This chapter is kind of a monster, so it took me a bit longer this time. Sorry about the wait.

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter! Thank you to Jordina, Nomercy Sedia, and dogsby! **To dogsby: **I tried to use some of what you suggested in your review in this chapter. I never have anyone outright say that power can be just as deadly as it is seductive, but I tried to show it.

This chapter was pretty difficult for me to write, so I would definitely appreciate feedback. Please review and let me know what you think! I take everything you all have to say very seriously and I deeply appreciate you taking the time to review.

Warnings: not much for this chapter. Tiny bit of language. Little teensy bit of torture. Nothing overly violent.

Disclaimer: I write for fun and make no profit.

Please enjoy!

**Chapter 10 – The Dark Lord**

When the first Hogsmeade weekend of term arrived, Remus was feeling completely better. It had taken a full two weeks this time for all the bruising and scratches to fade from his skin, and for the last vestiges of the wolf to leave him. Much worse than was normal. He had been attending classes under light glamour charms, against the wishes of Madam Pomfrey. But he was afraid of falling behind. However, when Sirius woke him up one bright Saturday morning, and declared that Remus was going with them to Hogsmeade no matter what, Remus was glad to announce that he was in fact feeling quite normal again.

"Well, that's good," said Sirius promptly. "Come on, get up, get dressed. James and Peter are already down at breakfast."

Under the guidance of Sirius – "No! Put on your other cloak, the thicker one." – "You'll need a hat, mate." – "I don't wear hats, Sirius." – Remus found himself dressed for cold weather and following Sirius down to the Great Hall.

"Just a bit of toast for me, thanks," said Remus, when they sat down and Peter offered him a full plate. He glanced at Sirius, prepared for a rebuke, but the other boy was too distracted by his own breakfast.

"Where's James?" asked Remus.

Sirius glanced up. Peter pointed down the table. James sat by Lily, smiling and running his fingers through his hair. Lily looked doubtful and puzzled and flattered and pleased all at once, and her head was tilted to one side as she listened to James.

"What's he doin'?" wondered Sirius.

"Probably asking Lily to Hogsmeade with him," answered Remus. He took a sip of pumpkin juice and smiled into the goblet as Sirius huffed and crossed his arms.

"Well, she'll say no," he said, though he sounded offended and insolent all at once. "We always go to Hogsmeade together," he muttered under his breath a moment later.

Remus snorted and hastily covered it up by coughing. Sirius shot him a glance, but Remus just smiled. "We can still go to Hogsmeade together. I'll even go into Zonko's with you."

That seemed to brighten Sirius up. He smiled widely and took a huge bite of eggs.

A few minutes later, James came over and threw himself onto the bench next to Sirius. "Guess what just happened!"

"You asked Lily to go to Hogsmeade with you," said Sirius blankly.

"Uh-huh," replied James, but he still bounced excitedly in place.

Sirius blinked. "She said yes, didn't she!"

James cackled madly. "You bet your fine Gryffindor arse she did!"

Remus looked up, surprised. "Really?" he asked. "How did you convince her to do that?"

"Oh, please," scoffed James. "Like it was hard?"

Remus, Sirius, and Peter raised doubtful eyebrows.

"Oh, all right," said James. "She said she won't go into Madam Pudifoot's even if it's the last shop standing, but she agreed to have a butterbeer and a bit of a stroll."

Remus smiled, but Sirius seemed to be in shock.

James noticed. He clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "Oh, come on, mate," he said, pleading. "Chances are, in half an hour she'll be completely bored of me anyway and then I can go with you to Zonko's and Honeyduke's and wherever else."

Sirius hesitated before answering, but when he finally did, a grin was on his face. "Are you joking? Now that she's finally agreed to go with you, you better make it last as long as you can." He paused and shoved James playfully. "She's probably under a curse or something. This might be your only lucky day. Ever."

James shoved him right back, but he was smiling too.

Remus just shook his head at the two of them and took a tiny bite of toast. James and Sirius had a special bond, he knew, but it never once left him feeling like the third wheel, especially not when Sirius had begun to look at him in a strange way. Strange. But good. Sirius had always been affectionate toward him, ever since their first year at Hogwarts. And even if he and Sirius didn't have the same type of friendship that Sirius and James had, Remus thought he had something just as good, maybe greater.

Yet whenever Remus thought about this special _thing _that he and Sirius had, his mind sort of curled up, like a hurt puppy, and he inevitably stopped thinking about it. Sirius was the instigator. Not Remus. There was still a part of him – when he looked at his friends – that couldn't believe they wanted to be around him. That they wanted to spend time with him. And talk to him. And be his friend.

Nobody wanted that with a werewolf.

But for some reason, Sirius did. And James did. And so did Peter.

Sometimes, Remus just couldn't comprehend it no matter how hard he tried. Other times, he sat back and thanked Merlin for the blessing of friends. That bright Hogsmeade morning was one of the times when Remus was torn between disbelief and acceptance.

"Remus!"

He glanced up. James and Sirius were staring at him. He realized all at once that he had been gazing at the wall over their heads for quite some time now, and that a half-eaten slice of toast was hanging from a limp hand.

"You need to eat more than that," said Sirius firmly, at the same time that James asked, "You gonna eat that, mate?"

Remus blinked. Sirius glared at James and then turned his gaze on Remus. "Eat," he commanded, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Remus hid a smile, and took another bite.

After a few more minutes, James waved a quick goodbye, stood up, and left the Great Hall at a trot. A minute later, Lily got up and demurely followed him out. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I guess that's us, then," he said. "You coming or what, Peter?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Peter, hurriedly taking a few more bites before standing as well.

Remus felt hot and uncomfortable in is heavy winter cloak and scarf. He was anxious to get outside into the cool air, and Sirius, seeing this, led the way immediately. Remus and Sirius walked side by side. Peter followed a few steps behind.

The path leading into Hogsmeade was swarming with students. Most of them were laughing and shouting and running about. A few walked quickly, huddled inside their heavy cloaks against the sharp autumn wind. Remus walked at a comfortable pace, keeping time with Sirius, who didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. James was somewhere ahead of them, too far to be seen, but with Lily most likely at his side. Remus thought that maybe Sirius didn't want to catch up with them, didn't want to have to see his best friend with the girl who could steal him away. It was one thing to know that it _might _happen. It was another thing entirely to _witness _it happening.

Slowly, gently, Remus let his hand circle Sirius's wrist. He felt Sirius's pulse, strong and steady, under his fingers. Sirius's skin was very cold, and Remus let some of his heat – the wolf's heat – soak in, before he uncurled his fingers and let go.

Sirius pulled him back.

For a moment, their fingers tangled together. Remus felt warmth, and skin, and the slight confusion of what they were doing, of Sirius's grey eyes glancing sidelong at him, of their palms pressed together, of the slight flush he knew had traveled up his cheeks. And then they let go, at the same time, and continued walking.

Behind them, Peter seemed not to have noticed. He was talking loudly about what candy he wanted from Honeyduke's.

"You know," said Sirius, "I could do with a few sugar quills myself."

And suddenly all Remus could see was Sirius sucking lightly on the end of one of those fine-spun quills, his tongue poking out absently, and where was _that _image coming from? Remus shook his head, and glanced at Sirius, and felt himself flush and even deeper red when Sirius gave him a sly, knowing smile.

Remus wasn't quite sure what was going on. But it was making him more than just a little uncomfortable.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus carefully ladled the successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion into ten small vials. He stoppered them just as carefully, and arranged them into a small box that he placed gently inside his bag. A flick of his wand vanished the remainder of the potion, and in the next few minutes the cauldron was clean and stored away, remaining ingredients were expertly bottled, and the Sixth Year Boys Dorm smelled minty fresh once more, and not of the hideously bubbling Polyjuice.

Severus wiped his hands, felt a flash of pride at a job well done, and slung his black cloak over his trousers and warm knit sweater. He picked up his bag slowly, mindful of the fragile glass bottles within, and left the dorm.

He was alone this morning. His friends had already left for Hogsmeade, as he knew they would when he casually mentioned that the potion was complete. He would meet them, as soon as he stopped by the Owlery and mailed his precious cargo. He felt confident that an owl would be waiting for him, just as the Dark Lord had promised. He walked briskly, but surely, his shoulders relaxed for once, as the weight of this assignment eased itself from his body. For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe.

The Owlery was a feathered, hooting mess. Severus waved his wand irritably, dispelling owl droppings before he could slip on them. He walked around, looking for the same owl that had accosted him in the corridor a month ago, and found him perched on a window ledge, dignified, his sharp eyes dismissing the other owls as lesser, his curved beak giving a hoot of recognition when Severus approached. However, he skittered away when Severus brought out the box of potions, and held out his leg instead.

Severus felt cold dread claw its way up his throat as he untied the rolled parchment on the owl's leg. He refused to let his hands shake as he flattened the parchment and began to read, refused to let his fingers tremble, refused to throw the letter down and set it aflame right there in the Owlery.

He knew his face had drained of all color. He was white as porcelain, and felt just as breakable. But after a solid minute of inaction, of breathlessness, Severus rolled the letter once more, stuck it in his bag, along with the box of potions, turned, and left the Owlery at as easy a walk as he could manage.

He wanted to be running.

(JP-JP-JP)

"Want to have a look in Honeyduke's?" asked James, and breathed a sigh of relief when his voice didn't squeak.

Lily glanced at him. "Yes, all right," she said.

James could hardly stop looking at her. He knew Sirius would have slapped him upside the head if he could see this, but he just couldn't help himself. He could still hardly believe that she was here, with him. Almost like a date.

"_It's not a date."_

James allowed himself a small smile. That's what Lily had said when he asked her to Hogsmeade. He didn't care if it wasn't a date. He was just glad that they were together. But not together, together, as Lily would have corrected. James was pleased to be in her company.

James pushed open the door to the sweetshop and let Lily walk in ahead of him. Her hair smelled like jasmine.

"Ooooh, Drooble's," she said, delighted, and headed straight for the large display of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

James remembered fondly the nights she had filled the Gryffindor Common Room with bright blue bubbles. They were her favorite. James himself had never quite outgrown his liking for chocolate frogs, and he made his way to the large barrel that was filled entirely with the packaged chocolates.

The shop was crammed with Hogwarts students. James had to push his way through them, and he noticed with slight envy that space seemed to open up around Lily wherever she moved. Everyone smiled and greeted her, and just sort of seemed to naturally create a path for her to walk. Her streaming hair swished behind her as she turned her head from side to side, saying hello to friends and acquaintances. James felt a stab of jealousy. But then Lily walked over to him, her arms full of enough Drooble's packages to last a month, and smiled a small, guilty smile, and James felt his heart flip-flop inside his chest.

Merlin, but Sirius really would hex him if he could hear how soppy his thoughts had become.

James offered to pay for Lily's sweets, but she wouldn't hear of it.

"I'll let you buy me a butterbeer," she said, with a bright smile, as she handed the witch behind the counter her silver Sickles.

"Deal," said James instantly, and he held the door for her again as they left Honeyduke's.

The Three Broomsticks was swarming, of course, but James made his way to the counter and purchased two butterbeers, which he brought back to Lily in mugs that steamed with warmth. She took a sip, and foam coated her upper lip, and James wanted to lean across the table and kiss it away, but instead he just laughed, and Lily laughed right along with him as she delicately wiped her mouth.

"Why _did _you agree to come with me?" asked James after a bit of time had passed, absently, as if he wasn't really expecting an answer.

Lily peered at him with her clever green eyes. "Believe it or not, James Potter," she said, "but you're not always a complete dunderhead." She paused, and her expression turned thoughtful, and she looked at him in a way that he didn't quite understand, but that made his stomach feel warm and tingly and definitely set his pulse racing. "Sometimes you're most definitely not."

James smiled as if he'd been given the highest praise, especially when Lily seemed to realize what she'd said, and blushed to the roots of her hair, and stumbled out of her chair to get them another butterbeer. When she made it back to the table, however, her face was a thundercloud.

"What's happened?" asked James immediately.

Lily set the mugs down so hard that foam and butterbeer sloshed out and onto the table. She sat down and jerked her head toward the bar with a wordless growl that James had never heard come from her mouth before. He glanced casually toward the bar.

"Snape," he said, and now his own voice was a growl. "What'd he do?"

Lily shook her head. "Nothing that warrants you getting up, or looking at him, or trying to act the hero."

With an effort, James pulled his gaze away from Snape – who stood slouched and brooding at the counter – and looked at Lily. He raised an eyebrow.

She blew an angry breath out of her mouth. "He just looked at me, with those sad, helpless eyes, like he can't understand why I won't choose him." She looked at James, and there seemed to be something of helplessness in her own eyes. "How can he expect any different, when he's treated me the way he has, and called me…" Her voice trailed off. She sniffed.

James felt his hands curl into fists. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to slip his wand out of his sleeve and quickly and silently curse Snape. He knew that would win him no points with Lily, no matter how much Snape deserved it. She and Snape had been childhood friends, after all, as much as it galled James to admit it, even to himself. He forced himself to calmness.

Even so, when he spoke it was through clenched teeth. "He wants two different worlds," he told Lily. "He can't erase his blood prejudice, and he wants you despite it, and that shames him, so he hates you just as much as he obsesses over you." James took a deep breath. "It's not healthy, Lily. And it's not something you can help him with."

Lily looked at him, and blinked rapidly several times, and her perfect rosebud mouth fell open in astonishment. For a moment, James wondered if he'd said something wrong. He wracked his memory. _Oh, Merlin! What did I say? _But then Lily stood up, came around the table, leaned in so close that James caught his breath, and ghosted a kiss across first one cheek, and then the other.

"James Potter," she whispered. "Oh, I am a fool."

And then she was back in her chair, staring into her butterbeer with an absent smile, though her face was absolutely scarlet. James stared openly at her.

_What just happened? _he thought. _Fuck. I really need to remember what I said. _

"Careful, James, you'll catch flies."

James snapped his mouth shut and glanced up. Sirius and Remus and Peter stood there, all three smiling a little uncertainly, not sure if they were interrupting. James could think of nothing to do but smile weakly at them.

"Hello," said Lily, pleasantly enough, and invited them to sit down.

James caught Sirius's glance, the question in his eyes – _Do you want us here? _– and minutely nodded his head. He wasn't sure what was going on with Lily, but he felt that he might not get much more out of her. In fact, she was standing up. She tugged her cloak closer to her body and grinned at James.

"It was lovely," she said, simply, and then walked away without another word.

James just shook his head when his friends kept staring at him curiously. "I don't even know," he said.

"Something weird is going on with Snape," Remus broke in suddenly, and James felt his focus successfully diverted.

The four Gryffindors looked toward the counter. Snape was still standing there, with Lestrange and Rosier. Their faces all looked pale and pinched, and they stood silently.

"Oh, great," muttered Sirius suddenly, and his eyes were glued to the door of the pub, where another student, also a Slytherin, had just come in.

It was Regulus Black.

"What's he up to?" asked Sirius quietly as his younger brother joined Snape and his lackeys. Surprisingly, the three older boys did not seem happy to see him.

"Sirius, don't," James warned, but a moment too late.

Sirius was up, and moving toward the Slytherins.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus didn't feel the cold.

He walked toward Hogsmeade in erratic, jerky steps, sometimes long strides as if he wanted to get there quickly, sometimes short as if he might turn around. He had pulled the hood of his cloak up, so that he looked like a tall dark shadow moving down the path, and he kept one protective, long-fingered hand on the outside of his bag, feeling the _bump bump _of the small potions case within. There was a rolled piece of parchment inside the bag as well, he knew. He did his utmost not to think about it.

When he reached Hogsmeade, he stood still for a time with his eyes closed, feeling the bustle of bodies around him, hearing the excited laughter of his fellow students, envying their ability to be so joyous and carefree. Didn't they know that Hogsmeade was just a fairy tale town? That their happy lives were illusions? Didn't they understand what the real world held?

Not yet. But they would.

"Severus."

He opened his eyes. Rodolphus and Evan stood before him, both dressed as dark as he. Rodolphus had frown lines around his mouth and eyes and creases in his forehead. Evan was as white as snow.

Severus glanced carefully from side to side. He leaned toward his two friends. "I've been summoned," he breathed, his voice the mere hint of a whisper.

Rodolphus and Evan both nodded, but Rodolphus motioned quickly with a hand and they moved away from the busy lanes of Hogsmeade. "Not here," he said, his voice just as quiet as Severus's had been.

They hurried toward The Three Broomsticks. It was loud and crowded inside, and most of the patrons were drinking, well on their way toward inebriation, if not there already. They could talk without being overheard.

"I got the letter this morning," said Severus. He kept his voice hushed despite the raucous atmosphere.

"Yes, I did as well," said Rodolphus.

Evan merely nodded. He appeared unable to speak.

Severus thought of the rolled parchment in his bag. Now that his mind had turned toward it, he seemed incapable of thinking of anything else. He could see the letter, the long, sharp writing that could only belong to one person.

'_Severus,_

_I find I desire to have my potions delivered personally. A portkey bearer will be waiting for you in Hogsmeade. Before the hour strikes twelve, you will be in my presence.'_

No signature. No warnings not to tell anyone. Just directions, with the expectation that they would be followed with complete and utter obedience. Severus shivered.

"What does he want you for, then?" Severus asked his friends, but they just shook their heads, and glanced quickly around, as if afraid.

Someone stepped up to the counter next to him. Severus glanced to the side and down. Red hair. Lily.

"Two butterbeers, please," she said to the barmaid.

Severus cast his eyes about the dark, crowded pub, and felt himself grow hot and cold at once when his gaze alighted on James Potter, sitting alone at a table, a ridiculous, ugly smile on his face. Severus felt his hands curl, and he looked at Lily, unable to help himself. She glanced up at him, briefly, and anger and confusion and sadness crossed her face, and Severus wondered what he looked like, for her to react in such a way, but then she had two drinks in hand was walking away from him, and Severus had no time to think about her.

Not when all he could think about was the Dark Lord.

"What do we do?" asked Evan, finally, his voice a croak. "Should we go now?"

Severus swallowed thickly. "Might as well."

They turned, prepared to leave, and were confronted with Regulus Black shoving his way inside the inn. He caught sight of them, and strode over purposefully.

"I'm going, too," he said, his voice strong, before Severus or Rodolphus or Evan could say a single word.

"Absolutely not," countered Rodolphus, his voice quiet but firm. "It's out of the question. You were not summoned."

Regulus shifted his calm grey gaze between the three of them. "But I desire to serve our Lord as –"

"We know," said Severus quickly, quietly. "But he has not called you to him."

"Watch it," hissed Rodolphus suddenly, and Severus turned to find Sirius Black approaching. His stomach clenched. Could they have no peace?

Black leaned casually on the bar next to them. He ordered three butterbeers, and then peered sideways at Regulus, his nearly identical grey eyes narrow and alight with suspicion and curiosity. "Careful, little brother," he murmured, his voice almost without emotion, his tone carefully controlled. He collected his drinks and strolled just as casually back to his table.

Severus stared after him. "I thought you said you were going to take care of that," he told Regulus, but without taking his eyes away from the table where Potter now sat with Black and Lupin and Pettigrew.

Regulus appeared dangerously close to stomping his foot in frustration. "I am," he said. He glared at the three older Slytherins, as if they had personally offended him, and left the pub without another word.

"Let's go," said Rodolphus. "Let's go, Severus. It's time."

Severus nodded.

(HP-HP-HP)

The day was outwardly perfect. There was a crisp autumn wind, and the sky was shifting between golden blue and milky grey, and the trees were beginning to turn, and the air was filled with laughter.

The day was outwardly perfect. But Harry thought that if his scar had been connected to Voldemort in this time, it would have been aching. There was something in the air besides the sounds of happiness. Something thick. Something foul. Something that had his battle-hardened body moving as if he were conducting an Auror raid, not walking peacefully through Hogsmeade Village. His muscles were coiled like those of a snake, like at any moment he might unravel himself and lunge.

Harry saw Severus once, and the uneasiness that he could practically taste in the air hung heavy around the young Slytherin. Severus did not see him, for which Harry was grateful, but met up with his friends and walked off in the opposite direction from where Harry was standing. He hovered uncertainly near the post office, toward the edge of the village. The screeching of owls was loud here, but even that was not enough to mask the wary silence that had filled Harry's mind.

He had not been this alert and ready for trouble since landing in this time to begin with. On that day, he had been paranoid and suspicious of everyone and everything, convinced he was to be attacked at any moment, until he managed to find a newspaper that told him the year, and he puzzled out what must have happened. He felt like that now, that same paranoia, that same maddening inkling that something was about to happen. But it felt darker this time. More real.

Harry stood in shadow, not sure where to walk, knowing that he would only venture back to this little crossroads. Something held him here. Something was going to happen. He could feel it.

He didn't have to wait long.

Only twenty minutes passed before Regulus Black appeared, his face and stride alike determined, heading for the post office.

Harry waited on the balls of his feet, prepared for action.

But five minutes later, all that happened was Regulus emerging from the post office, a scowl on his face, and a tawny owl flying out the door behind him. Harry waited five seconds, to guarantee that Regulus would not look back, and then sent a wandless, nonverbal _Accio! _at the owl. It screeched when it discovered that its flight had been interrupted, but Harry had both the owl and the rolled parchment in his hands a moment later, and whispered a few words to the owl that saw it relax and cease its loud noises.

The letter was simple, only a few lines from Regulus to his mother, Walburga Black.

'_Mother,_

_I hope this note finds you well. You will be glad to know that I am striving to serve our Lord daily, in any way that I can. However, Sirius has been unpleasantly underfoot lately, shadowing my success in bringing glory to our family. _

_Pass my regards to father. _

_Your son, _

_Regulus'_

Harry grimaced. The Regulus of this time, a mere fifteen years old, had not yet decided that Voldemort was actually not worth the trouble at all. He was, at this point, too deeply involved in the Dark.

Harry carefully rerolled the letter. He was tempted to keep it, to not give it back to the pretty tawny owl, but his conscience nagged at him.

"_Horrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Harry. Awful things."_

His conscience sounded alarmingly like Hermione today.

With a sigh, Harry gave the letter back to the tawny, and gently let the bird take flight. As much as he wanted to, he could not stop that letter from getting to Mrs. Black, even though it would assuredly have unpleasant consequences for Sirius. He had determined, when he realized that he might be stuck here for a while, that he would only ever try to subtly influence people, not outright change events.

Regulus Black would change, he knew, but not for several years.

And there was still that thick feeling in the air, the feeling that said something was going to happen. Harry felt his feet move, and he followed them. They took him past the post office, past the hustle and bustle of the village, to a small clearing where three cloaked figures were meeting a fourth. Harry recognized Severus almost instantly, not because he could see his face, but because of his noticeable height. He thought the other two might be Lestrange and Rosier, but he did not recognize the fourth, shorter figure coming to meet them. This figure held a shopping bag from Zonko's, and held it up as if offering a gift.

_Portkey_, thought Harry instantly, and knew with certainty that he was right.

Regulus Black sprinted into sight just as Severus and the other boys reached out to touch the bag. Harry waited, balanced on his toes, rocking first forward, then back. He wanted to leap into action, but knew he could not. He wanted to shout. He pressed his lips together.

There were surprised gasps as Regulus shoved his way into the circle they created, but no time to stop him. The five dark figures vanished.

Harry sank down into a crouch, breathing as if he had run a mile. He did not know where his students were going, but he knew it was to meet Voldemort. There could be no doubt of that. He could not follow them, not even to keep watch at a safe distance. The last thing he needed was an encounter with the Voldemort of this time – possibly a stronger Voldemort than Harry had ever known.

"Be careful, Severus," Harry said in a whisper that was lost to the wind. "Be careful."

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus managed to keep his balance when they landed, but only just. Portkey was not his preferred method of travel. But he stayed on his feet, and stood upright and tall, determined to show no weakness. He cast a withering glare at Regulus, but the younger boy stared back unapologetically, and Severus simply shrugged.

Whatever happened to Regulus, he had brought it upon himself.

Severus had only time enough to check the conditions of Rodolphus and Evan, to notice that they were somewhere dark and heavily forested, and then the portkey bearer whipped out a wand and conjured blindfolds, and Severus knew they were to proceed in darkness. He bit his tongue near to bleeding when the blindfold was fastened around his eyes, but he did not struggle, not even when blackness had him breathing shallowly. He felt something prodding at his back, and they began moving forward like a herd of cattle.

Severus was not sure how long they walked. He tried counting, but lost track after eleven minutes. Soon, though, he heard the murmur of other voices, and felt a rush of air that did not belong outside as they passed indoors. Their blindfolds were removed.

They were in a long stone corridor, completely without any defining features. Severus did not recognize it. The corridor was lit by torches that gave off pools of pure white light, blinding after the darkness of their journey. The portkey bearer had disappeared. Severus and his friends were now prodded forward by men in black robes and silver masks.

Death Eaters.

Severus knew the name. He knew he was well on his way to becoming one himself. He tried to guess who might be under those masks, but they gave no clues. They simply moved, pushing the young students ahead of them, toward the door at the end of the corridor.

The door was stone, just like the walls and floor, and seemed all of one piece. There were runes on two of the stones, however, and when tapped with one of the Death Eater's wands, they slid soundlessly inward. Severus and his friends were pushed inside.

The chamber they landed in was circular, dark, and stone like everything else. The white-light torches formed a brilliant ring around the wall, and a Death Eater stood sentry between each glowing pool of light, unmoving but with wand in hand.

"Forward, dogs!" growled one of the Death Eaters behind them, and Severus moved forward. "On your knees before the Dark Lord!"

In front of a large wooden chair Severus fell, straight onto his knees, uncaring of the sharp pain that reverberated through his legs at the impact. He lurched forward onto his hands and touched his forehead to the floor, and stayed that way, only vaguely aware of Rodolphus and Evan and Regulus doing the same next to him. Through the very tops of his lashes he saw a pair of white bare feet, and the hem of a dark robe that seemed woven of shadow and mist. He could see no more until he was permitted to look up.

The feet shifted. The long, fine toes curled as the Dark Lord stood. The feet strayed past Severus, past Rodolphus and Evan, and came to stop before Regulus.

"Crucio," said a voice, low and sibilant, and Regulus began screaming.

Severus bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to keep himself from looking up. The chamber was eerily silent but for the shrill keening of Regulus, as if the walls absorbed all echoes of his screams, and the sounds traveled flatly. Severus could hardly hear his own breathing, though the cries and shouts and wordless shrieks coming from Regulus were quite loud enough to make up for any loss.

Severus knelt in place, his face pressed to the cold stone floor, and did not move. He felt his bones trembling, felt the tremors work up through his skin, felt himself wanting to gasp at the steady flow of magic that came from the Dark Lord. Severus had nearly forgotten how strong it was, how incredibly overpowering. He could feel nothing but that striking, oozing power.

He wanted to purr with arousal. He wanted to retch.

The screams ended. Regulus panted loudly.

"You may rise," said the voice again, and Severus could not disobey, could never disobey that voice.

He uncurled the top half of his body so that he was upright, but he stayed on his knees. He glanced to his left. Regulus lay curled on his side, gasping. The Dark Lord – white feet, white hands, white face – crouched low and placed his hand under Regulus's chin.

"You know why I had to punish you, young pup?" asked the Dark Lord. He rose, and pulled his hand with him, and with his hand came Regulus, puppet-like, boneless.

"Yes, my Lord," breathed Regulus. He had to swallow several times. "I was not called here, my Lord."

The Dark Lord stepped back and considered Regulus with a bored gaze. His eyes were red slits, his face sharp angles, smooth planes. Magic seemed to drip from his very pores.

"I am eager to serve, my Lord," whispered Regulus. He flattened himself onto the floor, all the way onto his belly, and waited.

The Dark Lord tilted his head to one side. His lips twisted – it could not be called a smile, for it was far too cruel – as he looked at Regulus. "It pleases me to see you so," he said, and spent a moment more staring at the prostrate Regulus before taking two sliding steps to the side, so that he stopped in front of Evan.

"Do you know why I have summoned you, Evan Rosier?"

Severus saw Evan stop a shake before it reached his hands. "No, my Lord."

The Dark Lord crouched again, smoothly, gracefully, so that he could peer in Evan's eyes. "You will be quite useful to me, I think," he stated. "I have heard it said that you are something of a changeling, a chameleon. You could be anything I wanted you to be, if I asked."

Evan could not hide his shaking this time, but he nodded all the same. "Yes, my Lord."

"Look into my eyes," the Dark Lord commanded in a voice so cold it made Severus shiver. Evan looked up, of course he looked up, for disobedience was not an option, and stared into the Dark Lord's eyes. "Yes, you will be quite useful."

The Dark Lord stood. He turned toward Rodolphus. "And you, young Lestrange," he said. "You are to marry Bellatrix, are you not?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Rodolphus.

"Then stand, Rodolphus, and meet your future bride."

The Dark Lord gestured sharply, and a slender young woman with deep-set eyes and masses of black curls stepped forward. She surveyed Rodolphus blankly, and Rodolphus looked at her with carefully controlled indifference. The Dark Lord turned his back on their meeting, and Severus forgot everything as those eyes swept round to gaze at him. The Dark Lord moved to stand directly before him.

"Stand, Severus," he ordered.

Severus stood. He knew he was tall and still growing, but the Dark Lord had a height that was impressive even to him. He stood like something out of a dream, out of a nightmare. Severus could barely catch his breath.

"The potions, Severus," said the Dark Lord softly.

Severus quickly removed the small case from his bag and held it out for the Dark Lord. He bowed at the waist as he did so, and tried not flinch as those cold, spidery fingers brushed his and took the case. The Dark Lord examined the potions within.

"Perfection," said the Dark Lord, so quietly that Severus was sure he was the only one to hear, and he felt his body overtaken by tremors when he realized that the Dark Lord had not just been speaking of the potions, but casting a critical eye over Severus as well. He wanted to shrink under that gaze. He wanted to bask in the power that radiated from it.

"You have done well, Severus," continued the Dark Lord. He ran his fingers slowly along the little glass vials. "You will be of great use to me over the years." His eyes traveled up Severus's body and landed on his face. "Look at me."

Severus raised his eyes, and without meaning to, without even really being aware of what he was doing, he Occluded. He shielded thoughts and memories, nothing important, but he found himself doing it naturally, wanting to hide at least _something _from the gaze that seemed to see all. The Dark Lord stared at him for several long, silent moments. Severus could not tell if the Dark Lord knew he was Occluding. Finally, finally he looked away, and Severus felt his breath rush out, felt an overwhelming freedom from those eyes, felt an aching loss as that power moved away from him.

"I have heard curious rumors from Hogwarts this year," said the Dark Lord in a voice that was designed to carry now around the curves of the round room. "There is a man at Hogwarts, yes? A young man who shows extraordinary magical ability."

Severus hesitated only briefly before nodding. He knew this had been coming. The Dark Lord had followers throughout Hogwarts, and not just in Slytherin House. But Severus felt a fierce protectiveness roll through him at the thought of Harry. He was none of the Dark Lord's concern. He was not involved in sides or politics at all, as far as Severus knew. And he knew quite a bit more about Harry than most.

The Dark Lord looked at Regulus, still flat on the floor, and then at Evan, still kneeling. He looked at Rodolphus and Bellatrix standing side by side, and finally looked at Severus. This time, Severus intended to Occlude. He very carefully, in the way that Harry had taught him, hid away all thought, all emotion, all memory that involved Harry in any way. The Dark Lord stared at him, and several emotions flickered through those red, red eyes.

"I find I greatly wish to meet this man," said the Dark Lord quietly, but he did not ask for Severus's help, or explain what he planned to do, or even mention Harry again. He turned back to Rodolphus. "You will soon marry one of my most loyal followers," he said.

Bellatrix trembled at the praise. She leaned toward the Dark Lord breathlessly as he approached, Rodolphus apparently forgotten.

"Hold out your arm, Rodolphus," commanded the Dark Lord, and he cradled between his fingers his yew wand.

Rodolphus obeyed. He rolled up his sleeve and stretched out his left arm. Severus felt a rush of approval as he watched his friend. Rodolphus stood steady, without shaking, though the tight press of his lips suggested he wanted to turn and flee.

"Today I mark you as mine," hissed the Dark Lord. "From this point on, and soon with Bellatrix at your side, you serve me." He pressed wand to skin. "Morsmordre." A series of sharp, hissing noises followed his pronunciation of the spell, and then Rodolphus arched back on his toes, flung his head back, and opened his mouth as if he were screaming, but no sound emerged.

The rush of power that permeated the room because of that spell had Severus wanting to drop to his knees again. But he stood as still as he could, his breath coming erratically, his fingers clenching and unclenching, leaving half moon marks in his palms.

Finally it was over. Rodolphus straightened, and the Dark Mark burned black into the skin of his left inner arm, and blood dripped down his fingers. He fell to his knees and bowed before the Dark Lord. "I am honored to serve the Great Lord Voldemort," he said.

The Dark Lord smiled. He glanced around the room. His eyes swept over Severus one last time, and then he turned back to his large wooden chair. "Leave me," he said.

There was a flurry of movement. Regulus and Evan were hoisted to their feet. Rodolphus stood. Severus felt something turn him around, and then they were being prodded out of the circular room. Back through the stone corridor they went, out into the open air they came, and a dark figure moved forward to meet them. Without a word the figure held up a silver chalice, and Severus touched it. He was only vaguely aware of his friends doing the same, before the tug behind his navel carried him away.

They landed in Hogsmeade. The sun was still high in the sky. There were still students milling about. They all looked happy and carefree. They had genuine smiles on their faces. Severus turned to look at his friends.

Regulus and Evan were supporting Rodolphus between them. Though he had shown no sign of weakness before the Dark Lord, he now looked as if he might be sick. His skin was startlingly pale, and though he had rolled his sleeve down once more, Severus could see blood soaking through.

"Dorms," gasped Rodolphus. His teeth began chattering. "Bed."

Severus moved forward. He took Evan's place in supporting one side of Rodolphus, since the other boy was a hair too short to do so comfortably. Evan led the way, keeping them clear of any passing groups of students. It felt like a long time before Hogwarts came into sight, and Rodolphus stumbled and tripped up the path so badly that he almost took both Severus and Regulus down with him.

But somehow, miraculously, they made it up to the castle and down to the dungeon without being seen by any of the professors. They passed through the Slytherin Common Room blindly, stripped Regulus down to his shorts, wrapped his arm, gave him a sleeping potion, and tucked him into bed. Not long after that, Evan himself climbed into bed. He pulled his curtains closed, and before Severus left the room he thought he heard the sound of stifled sobs.

The Common Room was nearly empty. Most students were still out at Hogsmeade. Only Vendra sat by the brightly burning fire, her purple hair feathered around her face, her impossibly blue eyes fixed on Severus.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered, and held out her hand to him.

He went to her. He sat down on a large, comfy couch, and then his body crumpled, he fell sideways, and his head landed in Vendra's lap. He felt cold, and hot, and exhausted, and exhilarated. Vendra whispered something to him, something he forgot as soon as he heard it, and her tiny hands moved through his hair.

He fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Hey guys! Oh, wow, am I ever sorry about how long this took. RL pretty much bit me in the ass the last few weeks, and I had zero time to write. But, to try to make it up to you, I'm posting earlier than Sunday! Yay! I'm also posting two chapters. Wooohooo! And guess what, the second one has some long awaited HP/SS!

Thanks for all my readers and reviewers! I love all of you dearly. To **dogsby: **I totally understand where you're coming from in regards to the frustration that fanfiction can cause. I really do get it. I've been there too. I just happen to be one of those people who actually really likes cannon, so I always saw this story as a "How could things have gone in the past - maybe even influenced by Harry himself - to make Harry's time what it was?" and not so much a "How can Harry go back and make his life better?" My Harry isn't trying to make his life better. In his own time, as Head Auror, he actually likes his life. But I can definitely see how that can be super frustrating. But hey, at least my Harry is short, right?

Thank you to Yukirat, Jordina, and Gemini Peverell as well!

Disclaimer: I make no money by writing this. I'm just a crazy fan.

Warnings: Not so much for this chapter. Maybe language? I can't really remember.

Enjoy! And please review!

**Chapter Eleven – Best Served Cold**

Harry shifted his gaze uneasily between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables at breakfast the Monday after Hogsmeade. He couldn't quite figure out who to watch, and his attention wavered. He sipped pumpkin juice and stared at Severus, who looked just as pale and thin as usual, and unharmed. He forced a bite of porridge and cast a critical eye over James and Sirius and Remus, all of whom seemed strangely subdued. He glanced back at the Slytherin table. Something was definitely wrong with Rodolphus Lestrange, though he hid it well. At the Gryffindor table, Lily Evans was biting her lower lip and staring at her untouched plate. At the Slytherin table, Regulus Black kept looking up at the enchanted ceiling, his eyes wide and anxious.

Harry rolled his shoulders warily. Every Auror sense he had was on high alert today, not because he thought anything disastrous might happen, but because his students were definitely keeping secrets. This was nothing new for Hogwarts students, and definitely did not surprise Harry in any way. But he felt like these secrets – whatever they might be – were rather too important to remain unknown. Too important. Or too dangerous.

"You seem distracted this morning, young Harry," said a voice to his right, and Harry felt a smile creep onto his face as he glanced at Albus Dumbledore.

"A bit, Headmaster," he replied.

Albus continued to maneuver his fork absently through his eggs, but the look he shot at Harry over the tops of his half-moon spectacles was anything but absent. His eyes, as crystal blue and sparkling as ever, seemed capable of seeing right through Harry.

"Must I ask you yet again to call me Albus?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "A temporary relapse, Albus," he said, as pleasantly as he could. "Sometimes I forget." That last bit was softer, not meant to be heard, but Albus gave him a sad little smile anyway.

"Your demeanor suggests that you are waiting for something," continued Albus, as if the former exchange had never occurred.

"I am," said Harry, the words leaving his mouth before he had even made up his mind to say them.

Dumbledore peered at him askance, a white eyebrow raised, and Harry answered the unasked question by pointing up at the enchanted ceiling.

"That," he said, and knew by the frisson of awareness traveling his spine that he was right.

He barely noticed Regulus Black suddenly sit up straighter and clench his hands atop the table. His eyes, like those of nearly everyone else in the hall, followed the progress of a large screech owl carrying a bright red envelope.

The owl soared over the Gryffindor table, of course. The Howler dropped in front of Sirius Black, who stared at it casually as if it were just another normal letter. Slowly, taking his time, he set aside the remains of his breakfast, picked up the Howler, and opened it.

Loud, hideous shrieking filled the hall. There was a collective intake of breath, and then only the sounds of Walburga Black's furious screaming could be heard.

"_FILTH! SCUM! BLACK SPOT OF A SON! SHAME OF MY LOINS! HOW DARE YOU OVERSTEP YOUR BOUNDS! HOW DARE YOU INTERFERE WITH YOUR BROTHER, WHO SERVES OUR FAMILY MORE THAN YOU EVER COULD! I SHOULD BURN YOU OFF THE TREE THIS VERY DAY, YOU TRAITOROUS BOY! I'LL HAVE YOUR HIDE, SIRIUS! ONE OF THESE DAYS, I'LL HAVE IT!"_

The Howler continued, though the shrieks became wordless, mere roars of echoing sound. The students, sensing that the excitement was over, turned back to their breakfasts and their own conversations.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table. Regulus Black was gone.

(JP-JP-JP)

James stared at the rough wood of the table as the Howler screamed at his best friend. It went on for quite a while, longer than was necessary, and when it finished, James glanced up. Sirius sat examining his nails, his expression perfectly bored. He actually yawned and checked the time, and when he caught James's eyes, his smile was quick and wolfish.

"So, you'll be staying with me over holiday, then?" asked James neutrally.

Sirius's smile only grew. "I do believe I will be," he answered.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry was negligent with the younger years that day. His inattention was reminiscent of his own years at Hogwarts. According to the Auror Examinations, it had been one of his weaker traits – the ability to focus strongly and effectively on one subject, but to the near exclusion of all else. Intense training and diligence had seen him finally able to focus on several things at once, showing preference for nothing, but he was slacking today.

A temporary relapse, he had told Albus. Perhaps true after all.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the Marauders out of his head. The Marauders, and Severus Snape.

They were all up to something, the lot of them. Harry knew it as surely as he had known Draco Malfoy was up to something in Sixth Year. Severus had seen Voldemort over the weekend, of this Harry was sure. He did not know what had happened there, but he knew it could not have been pleasant. As for the Marauders, Harry knew Sirius would do something about that Howler. It wasn't in his nature to let something like that slip by without retaliation.

Harry was ready for the break by the time lunch arrived. He had already forgotten to give homework to the first and fourth years, and his head hurt. Making an instant decision, Harry veered off toward the kitchens instead of the Great Hall, his thoughts contemplative, his mood solitary. He stood in front of the bowl of fruit and tickled the pear, and entered the kitchens.

He was immediately surrounded by sound. House elves scurried about, shouting in squeaks, balancing plates, dishes, platters, bowls. Their feet pattered over the floor and it was several long moments before any of them noticed Harry standing there. A female elf finally approached him, timidly, obviously unsure of his presence in a place in the castle where humans rarely ventured.

"Young master?" she asked, her voice high-pitched, but not overly squeaky.

Harry smiled warmly and knelt so as to look her in the eyes. "Hello. My name is Harry. You are?"

The elf blinked in surprise. "Penny, sir," she said, her voice very shy and quiet.

"A pleasure to meet you, Penny," said Harry. "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Penny's ears twitched, and she tilted her head to stare at him curiously. "Is master wanting something from the kitchen?"

Harry smiled again and nodded. "I seem to have a horrible headache today," Harry admitted. "Could I perhaps have a coffee, black, please?"

Penny nodded eagerly, happy to serve. "Of course, master," she said. She turned, and Harry stood and followed her.

"Please, call me Harry," he requested.

Penny blinked wide eyes at him, and for the first time, her face broke out into a smile. "Master Harry is very kind," she said, more enthusiastic now, actually going so far as to take hold of his hand and pull him along through the bustling elves with her. "Like Master Dumbledore. Very kind." She babbled for a moment, quite pleased. "Penny will take care of Master Harry. Anything you want, Master Harry, you tell Penny."

Harry rolled his eyes fondly and thought of Dobby. He still felt a twinge of remorse for his fallen friend, but Penny's bubbling personality reminded him strongly of Dobby, and replenished good memories. He followed her through the kitchen easily and willingly. They reached a small area where the remainders of that morning's breakfast were being kept. There was a large pot of coffee, still hot, and from it Penny poured Harry a generous amount of coffee into a large thermos.

He sipped it and waved goodbye to the house elves as he left.

"Master Harry lets Penny know if he needs anything!" yelled the small squeaky elf as the portrait swung closed.

Harry shook his head and laughed quietly, and gulped his coffee, and then stopped suddenly as a shadow, misshapen and elongated by the torches, moved in front of him. He rolled up onto the balls of his feet without thinking, and his wand slipped down out of his sleeve and into steady fingers instantly.

But it was only Regulus Black, and he looked just as frozen at the sight of Harry as Harry did at the sight of him.

Harry relaxed first. His wand disappeared, his stance lost its rigidity, and he smiled his bright, disarming smile. Regulus may not have liked Harry very much, but he was not immune to the power of that smile. His face lost tension, and he almost – nearly – smiled back. Then he seemed to catch what he was doing and merely tilted his head instead, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Black," said Harry pleasantly.

"Hello, Professor James," replied Regulus calmly.

There seemed to be nothing more to say. Harry had not much spoken to Regulus before now, and anything further on his part would have excited immediate suspicion from the young Slytherin. Experimentally, he sent a tendril of Legilimency towards the boy. Regulus had no shields to speak of, though it appeared he had tried to create them on more than one occasion. However, despite the lack of proper protection, Harry was forced to withdraw when he met nothing but rushes of sound and color. Regulus's was a mind too quick, too constantly in motion, to be laboring over any one thought. He was not Occluding, but he might as well have been.

"Carry on, Mr. Black," commanded Harry promptly, and enjoyed the minute traces of surprise, confusion, and hesitancy that crossed the boy's countenance. Regulus thought he knew something about the Howler, most likely, or maybe even of the weekend's events. But Harry gave no sign other than a slightly raised eyebrow, and Regulus scuttled past him without another word.

Harry laughed and rolled his shoulders. Sometimes it was fun to make people think he knew more than he really did.

The next day, however, saw Harry still puzzling over the conundrum that was his students. Even as the Sixth Years filed into his class, he frowned absently at nothing in particular, preoccupied. For once he was sitting behind his desk instead of on top of it, and that seemed to worry his students more than anything. They took their seats like children who knew they were stepping into a trap. Harry tried to smile at them, but that had them even more on edge.

It took a conscious effort on his part to keep his eyes from straying toward the Marauders or Severus. He focused on the wall behind them, and stared without blinking while he spoke.

"A corporeal Patronus," he began, "is one of the most important defensive spells to know, as well as one of the most difficult to master."

The Sixth Years chattered in excitement. Harry grinned at the wall.

"The Patronus," he continued, "can act as a shield against more dark creatures than just a Dementor, and is a faithful companion in battle."

He let his words sink in for a moment.

"The Patronus is also a reminder that, as long as you are able to cast it, you. Still. Have. A. Soul."

The quiet permeating the room was so loud, Harry heard it as if something with a physical presence were pressing against him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and raised his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!" he said, not shouting, like he had once done, but not soft wither. He felt the giant stag explode from the end of his wand, felt its reassuring warmth and light next to him. He opened his eyes.

Every student in the room was leaning forward with eyes wide from shock. Harry wondered how many of them had actually seen a corporeal Patronus before. He glanced at the stag, which was nearly blinding in its brightness, and held out his hand for the large nose to sniff. Harry shifted his gaze, spared a quick look at James, who was sitting with outright amazement on his face, staring at the stag as if he had never seen anything so magnificent. Harry swallowed his concern over the questions that might arise for showing his Patronus, and brought his eyes around to look at each of his students again.

"Perhaps you can guess why Dark Wizards and creatures alike would fear such a thing," said Harry. He smiled at the stag. "Those who are truly lost to the Light are unable to call a corporeal Patronus, for it takes greater strength than they will ever possess. It takes courage. It takes the ability to face your fears. It takes every ounce of goodness, of love, of purity that resides inside you, and manifests it into something from which shadows flee."

Harry let the stag fade. The Sixth Years watched it go with sadness evident on their faces.

"This is what I will attempt to teach you over the coming weeks." The students stared at him. Harry smiled brightly and waved a hand. "Up. All of you up. Move the desks, there you are."

There was a great clattering as students got to their feet and began pushing desks and chairs to line the walls. They stood in the center of the room when they finished, awkwardly now that they had no desks to hide behind, and looked at Harry.

"The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_," he said. "You must search your memories before you cast. Only the happiest memory you have will do, and that is what you must think upon as you cast the spell. Spend a moment now gathering that memory."

Many of the students closed their eyes. Several looked at Harry with realization dawning on their faces, understanding that this was what he had been preparing them for.

"Once you have the happy memory, pair up," said Harry. "I don't care with who, as long as they can encourage you and you can learn from each other."

The students scrambled to stand next to their friends.

"Mr. Black!" called Harry. The shaggy-haired Gryffindor looked up. "You're with me."

Sirius cast a glance at his friends, shrugged his shoulders, and came to stand next to Harry.

"Watch each other," said Harry to the class at large. "Try to learn from one another. Take it in turns. And remember! Expecto Patronum!"

The students separated into small clumps of two. Slowly, hesitantly, they began quietly chanting the incantation. Harry looked at Sirius.

"Do you have your memory?" he asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Here we go, then. Wand up, wand up," said Harry. "Think on that memory and nothing else. When you feel ready, cast the spell."

Sirius remained unmoving for a moment with his wand raised. Finally, he slowly cast the spell. Harry felt the rush of power, but nothing else happened. Not even the misty white light. Sirius lowered his wand. His grey, grey eyes looked pensive.

"Something on your mind, Mr. Black?" asked Harry casually.

Sirius blinked slowly. He glanced at Harry, a look that Harry knew well. "Just distracted," he answered lowly.

Harry nodded. He had expected as much. Sirius had that look about him. That look that said he was plotting something.

"Think on your memory," instructed Harry. "Don't let anything else in, just like we've been practicing. Right now it's only you, your wand, and your memory. That is your world."

Sirius took a deep breath and raised his wand again. He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, and when he opened them again, they were alight like a lightning-struck sky.

"Expecto Patronum!" he bellowed, so loudly that everyone else in the room stopped to stare.

White light shot from the end of his wand. Harry's face split into a grin as he watched the light coalesce into a massive animal that could have been a dog, a wolf, or a bear. It never quite made it to a fully corporeal state, but wavered between forms. After a moment, the light faded away.

"Well done, Mr. Black!" congratulated Harry. He clapped Sirius on the shoulder, Sirius looked at him, his eyes very bright and his smile huge, and Harry dove. Behind those eyes, he saw thoughts of James – of James offering his home to Sirius during holiday, maybe even after. He saw thoughts of Remus – of Remus in a way that made Harry's eyes widen, but that did not surprise him.

Harry laughed delightedly. "Excellent! Keep on, Mr. Black. Keep on."

Sirius raised his wand again. He was beaming.

Harry moved away. Slowly he circulated through the room, instructing, correcting, encouraging. By the end of the lesson, almost half of them had managed the weak, non-corporeal version of the Patronus. Sirius, though he had tried, had not been able to cast as strongly as he had initially.

Harry stood at the front of the room before dismissal. "Do not be discouraged by your efforts today," he said. "Very few people manage even what you have done so far." He smiled brightly. "We will try again on Thursday."

The students began to file out the door.

"A word, Mr. Black, if you please," said Harry, and watched as the young Gryffindor paused in the act of gathering his bag and books. He waved a hand for his friends to go on without him, and he approached Harry as soon as the room was empty.

"Yes, Professor?"

Harry tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I hope you will not dwell too much on the Howler you received yesterday morning," said Harry carefully. "I would not want the antics of your family to distract you from your studies."

Sirius actually laughed, but his eyes narrowed in such a way as to inform Harry that he now knew that Harry knew that he was up to something. "That was nothing, Professor," said Sirius, and sounded as if he meant it.

"Good," said Harry. "I hope that means you will find no reason to retaliate."

Sirius's eyebrows shot up at that, but he smiled innocently. A smile Harry knew to be false.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," he murmured.

"Hmmm," hummed Harry. He stared at this young Sirius and wondered if this was how he had appeared to his professors at the age of sixteen, always in trouble and always trying to convince them otherwise. "Well, of you go then, Mr. Black."

Sirius slung his bag over his shoulder, actually had the audacity to wink at Harry, and _strutted _out the door.

Harry's laughter followed him out.

(SB-SB-SB)

For all of his apparent nonchalance, Sirius broke into a quick trot as soon as he left the Defense classroom. From an inside pocket of his bag, he pulled a crinkled, folded parchment, tapped it with his wand, whispered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," rounded a corner, and stopped dead in his tracks. Black ink swirled across the parchment, and when unfolded, it displayed a rudimentary outline of Hogwarts. In some places the ink was faded, in others the moving footsteps seemed not to want to move, but they still had some problems to fix. The map was a work in progress.

But it showed Sirius exactly what he wanted to see nonetheless, which was his friends gathered not one corridor from him, and Severus Snape just one corridor beyond that. Feeling more at ease, he strolled forward at an unhurried walk, and rounded another corner with a grin already in place. He waved to his friends, felt something in his stomach flutter at the sight of Remus, and kept the map out as he joined them. Snape was drawing near.

"What did Professor James want?" asked James immediately, and his question was mirrored with a nod from Peter.

"Asked about the Howler," said Sirius. "Professors never know when new news becomes old news. That was so twenty-four hours ago."

He had been going for a laugh, and was rewarded with one. Or three, rather. He preened and smiled, but when he glanced at the map again, he noticed that Snape was almost on top of them.

Sirius cleared his throat suddenly, and his friends quieted and looked at him. "So, we'll meet at the Whomping Willow on the night of the full moon, as usual," whispered Sirius conspiratorially, ignoring for the moment the suddenly confused expressions of his friends. On the map, Snape's footsteps had stopped moving. He was hovering right around the corner. "We'll keep it quiet, of course. We can't afford to get caught."

James looked ready to open his mouth. Sirius brought a hand up, pushed some hair out of his eyes, and lowered one finger to cover his mouth. James nodded almost imperceptibly and kept his mouth shut.

"Right," said Remus slowly, caching on. "As usual."

Sirius glanced down again. Snape's footsteps were moving away from them quickly, almost at a run. Soon, he was a full floor beneath them.

"What in the name of Merlin was that all about?" asked James as Sirius tapped the map again, whispered "Mischief Managed," and slid the parchment back into his bag.

"Nothing," said Sirius easily. "The map's a bit buggy, by the way. We should work on it soon."

"That was obviously something," pressed James. "Fess up, Padfoot."

Sirius sighed. "Nothing, like I said. I just wanted Snivellus to hear about our plans for the full moon."

Remus's eyes grew round. "Are you mad?"

"Probably," returned Sirius.

"But he'll follow us," insisted Remus, concern evident in his voice. "You know he will."

"I'm counting on it," said Sirius.

"You are mad," breathed James. "Are you trying to get him killed?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Scared shitless? Absolutely. Too bloody frightened to ever mess with us again? Hopefully. But not killed."

James just shook his head. Remus had his head in his hands. Peter simply stared. He seemed to not know how to respond at all.

Sirius huffed. "Severus Snape is a problem. We all know it. What if he decides he needs more potions ingredients, hmmm? What if he ventures out on his own again anyway, dragging my brother along with him?"

James bit his lower lip before speaking. "But Snape didn't know it was us last time. He couldn't have."

"He's intelligent," admitted Sirius reluctantly. "What if he sees us again, and puts two and two together? What then? He's already so bloody suspicious."

They continued to look at him like he'd lost his marbles, but none of them had an answer. That suited Sirius just fine. As far as he was concerned, Snape was becoming too meddlesome. And dragging Regulus into it… that made it personal. There was no love lost between Sirius and Regulus, but he was still blood. A problem, but blood.

Snape claimed no such right. And if Regulus was the problem, then Snape was the cause. Cut out the root, kill the weed. Simple.

Sirius forced himself to bark out a laugh. "You three are acting like First Years. Don't worry so much. We won't get caught. Snape thinks he merely overheard us. It's his choice now whether he follows us or not."

"You know he will," said James, but with less vehemence in his voice.

Sirius grinned. "Anyway, we have bigger things to worry about. Professor James definitely knows I'm up to something."

"Did he read your mind?" asked Peter.

Sirius glanced around, clearly startled that he hadn't thought of that himself. He covered it with a casual shrug. "I doubt it," he said calmly. "I haven't felt anything to suggest that he has."

"Well, you probably wouldn't, would you?" countered Remus reasonably. "Especially if he doesn't want you to know."

Sirius felt cold at that. "The point is, he's suspicious, so we need to be extra careful." He started walking. The others fell into step with him. "We can't do anything to arouse even more attention from him than is necessary."

"Oh, you mean like planting possibly fatal information in the head of a too-curious-by-far Slytherin?" asked James.

Sirius threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Yes!" he gasped. "Exactly like that."

He didn't miss the look of exasperation that passed between James and Remus. But all it did was make him laugh more.

(SS-SS-SS)

Despite their ability to constantly fool the staff into thinking otherwise, Severus Snape knew that there was nothing innocent about James Potter and his gang of Gryffindors. Potter, Black, Lupin, and occasionally Pettigrew had been nothing but misery for him since First Year. He knew they were up to something. He just knew it. Five years of trying to prove it, however, had brought up nothing.

But not anymore.

He didn't know what they were planning for the night of the full moon, but they were definitely planning something, and he would find out what.

He walked toward Herbology, and his mind detailed a misty fantasy in which he caught Potter and Black performing black magic, or partaking in some sort of forbidden ritual, or sacrificing kittens. He imagined the shock and outrage on their faces when he showed himself – with a professor close at hand, of course – and they were finally, finally caught out. He would be a hero in Slytherin for managing to crash the Gryffindors down to earth, and maybe Lily…

Lily would like him again. She would forget the nasty things he had said to her. She would remember their childhoods, their slow progress with this strange and wonderful thing called _magic_, and all of Severus's past actions would be forgotten. She would finally see who James Potter really was. And she would pick Severus.

Severus shook his head. Just a dream. A good dream, but fantasy nonetheless. Lily would never forgive him now if anything happened to James Potter, and despite the gut-wrenching that thought brought, Severus knew he simply couldn't stand back and let those arse kissing Gryffindors get away with one more thing. He just couldn't.

He strolled into Herbology, took his place next to Evan, and tried not to smile as wickedly as he felt like doing.

The next few days, however, were anything but pleasant. Severus tried to watch Potter and Black for any hints of suspicious behavior, but they wore their innocent façade so seamlessly that they almost even had him fooled. The only thing that changed among the Gryffindors was that Lupin began to not look so good. In fact, by the day before the full moon, he looked downright ill. It tickled something in Severus's mind to see him so, something familiar, as if he had a puzzle almost completed, but the one final piece, the most important one, yet eluded him.

By the day of the full moon, Severus felt almost as ill as Lupin looked. He'd hardly slept, and though Rodolphus and Evan displayed evident concern, they understood that Severus did not want to be asked any questions.

Vendra, on the contrary, had noticed long ago that something was not right. She now watched him through narrowed eyes whenever they were in the same vicinity, and it made Severus's skin prickle to feel that too-blue gaze. She had started crossing her arms whenever she saw him, and tapping her fingers on her upper arms in frustration.

On the night of the full moon, Severus sat in the Slytherin Common Room, going over his Transfiguration work, and Vendra sat in an armchair not far off, staring at him and _tapping_. Severus let this go on for quarter of an hour before he finally looked up and pierced Vendra with an irritated black look.

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't like it," she said, quietly, because there were others still in the Common Room as well. "Whatever it is you're doing."

"I don't expect you to, love," replied Severus, just as quietly.

Vendra stood up from her armchair, paced in front of the fire for a moment, and then sat down next to Severus on his couch. "I feel like you're trying to prove something. It's going to end badly, Severus."

"For them," he said, but her words sent a spike of worry through him.

She shook her head sadly. There were really only two people that Severus could mean when he said 'them,' and Vendra knew it. "It's gone too far, Severus. This childhood rivalry you have, it has to stop. I don't know what's going on, but I can feel that whatever happens tonight, it is going to hurt everyone involved. Everyone, Severus."

Well. That was bothersome. "A risk I will take, Vendra," said Severus firmly. "It would be nice to have you on my side."

Vendra's head pulled back, her eyes grew large and watery. Her lower lip trembled, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. "Can't you see that I'm saying this because I am on your side?"

Severus closed his eyes and sighed. He opened his arms, felt the couch dip slightly under him, and then Vendra was curled into his side, her head tucked beneath his chin.

"I know, love," he whispered. "I know."

(SS-SS-SS)

Night at Hogwarts Castle gave evidence to the fact that winter was rapidly approaching. Severus crept through the cold, adrenaline keeping his teeth from chattering, but nothing stopping his breath from showing on the air, sweeping mist-like ahead of him. Breathing through his nose didn't help. His breath flew out like a beacon before him. Severus wasn't much concerned. The moon was incredibly bright, lighting the grounds, giving him away just as easily as his breath. There was little he could do about it.

He approached the Whomping Willow cautiously. It had been planted during Severus's first year at school, but it was already a giant, looming tree. The branches swayed gently now, but Severus knew that just half a dozen more steps would bring him close enough to cause those branches to attack. He hesitated, unsure of his next move.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, his next move was decided for him by the sound of approaching footsteps and half hushed whispers.

"Shhh! Quiet, James."

Severus crouched and darted to the side. He threw himself behind a large boulder, curled his knees as close to his body as he could, and held his breath.

"Hurry."

That was Lupin. His voice sounded strained, and anxious.

"Do you see anyone?"

That was Pettigrew. He sounded scared witless, but after a brief pause, Black answered, "No."

There was a sound like rushing wind, the branches of the Willow began to creak, and then everything went quiet. Severus released his breath slowly, half turned his head, and peered over the top of the rock. Potter and Black and the others were gone.

Severus stood.

The Whomping Willow was strangely still. Severus slowly stepped out from behind the rock and approached the tree. The branches didn't move. Severus made himself walk lightly, on his toes, toward the thick trunk of the tree. He peered closely through the dark, but the branches hid the light of the moon, and he could see nothing but gnarled bark.

"Lumos," he whispered, and his wand poured light onto the trunk of the tree.

There was an opening. Severus had never noticed it before. He imagined that no one had ever ventured close enough to notice. But Black and Potter and their cronies had disappeared down through that opening. Severus would have bet his life on it. Looking warily up at the tree, unsure of how much longer the branches would remain immobile, Severus eased himself through the hole in the trunk and dropped noiselessly into a dark tunnel. Keeping his wand lit, he began to walk.

The tunnel was rough. It felt like something that had been dug hastily, not something that had been planned. He nearly tripped multiple times, but he could practically taste victory over the Gryffindors, and he kept on. The tunnel felt endless. Soon, though, he thought he heard sounds up ahead. Voices, maybe. He stilled for only an instant, and then hurried his pace.

He stumbled upward, felt excitement growing inside him, and then froze.

James Potter stood not three paces from him. The Gryffindor had his wand out, but it was streaming light like Severus's, and he did not look as if he meant to attack. In fact, he did not look at all surprised to see Severus there.

"Go back, Snape," said Potter quietly.

Severus gripped his wand tightly and raised his chin. He shook his head. "No. I've finally caught you lot out. I refuse to go back now."

Potter glanced over his shoulder. His stance suggested he was prepared for some sort of attack. When he looked back at Snape, his eyes held genuine fright.

"You have to leave," he said again, more urgently. "You have to go now. You don't understand. If you stay here, you'll die."

Severus's lip curled. He raised his wand higher, pointed it straight between Potter's eyes. "Sounds like a threat," he hissed.

Potter shrugged helplessly. "I'm not the threat," he whispered. Noises grew behind him, scuffling noises, animal noises. He glanced over his should again. "There's no time. You must go back."

Severus sneered and held his ground.

But then, very close by, a howl, long and hideous, split the air.

Potter growled. "Go, Snape! Run!"

And in that instant, Severus understood. For a moment he felt nothing but shock, but then Potter screamed at him to run, and Severus forgot his pride. He turned and ran. He felt Potter following him, but he did not care. His brain felt frozen over, numb, and he careened and stumbled as fast as he could back up the tunnel, back toward the hole in the trunk of the Whomping Willow, back toward safety. He ran, gasping for breath, out into the night, and kept running.

Behind him, James Potter was screaming. The animal noises had grown loud, vicious. Howls filled the night. Thundering footsteps sounded close behind him, and Severus tripped, and lurched to his feet, and spun with his wand out.

A werewolf was leaping for him. Its muzzle, already bloody, was pulled back in a snarl, and Severus turned to stone. His mind produced a dozen spells he could use, but his lips remained open in a soundless shout, and his fingers trembled on his wand.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw James Potter fly past him. He ran, yelling, for the werewolf, and mid stride, his body convulsed and morphed, and then James Potter was gone, and a giant, magnificent stag caught the belly of the werewolf between sharp antlers, and threw it aside like rubbish. A large black dog, snarling and barking, jumped over the stag and brought the werewolf down just as it regained its feet. A small rat, almost lost in the dappled shadows and darkness, tiny in comparison to the other animals, scurried over the body of the fallen werewolf, biting, Severus assumed, in order to keep the beast down.

Severus stumbled backward. He shook, and felt coated with sweat, and swallowed reflexively to keep himself from vomiting. The stag turned its great head, stared at him silently, and Severus turned and ran. He flew as fast as he could back toward the castle, his mind so numb he could barely think. He leaped through the doors, bolted toward the grand staircase, and took the steps three at a time. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to do something. He had to tell someone.

Sirius Black had actually tried to kill him.

That thought stopped him so suddenly that he only just managed to avoid crashing into a suit of armor. He stood in the corridor, breathless, panting, his whole body trembling. He could not think of where to go, of what to do.

"Good evening, Mr. Snape."

Severus reared back, startled, and was surprised to find Dumbledore and Harry James before him. They both looked calm, unshakable.

"Headmaster," gasped Severus. "Professor, Sirius Black, and the others, they, they're out in the night, they tried to –"

Dumbledore held up one long-fingered, wrinkled hand, and Severus's words cut off just as surely as if the Headmaster had cast a spell to silence his voice.

"I believe, Mr. Snape," said Dumbledore quietly, "that it's long past time we had a chat, don't you think?"

Severus blinked. Dumbledore stared at him with those blue eyes, and he looked anything but an old man as he stood there in the dark corridor. Harry James, shorter than Dumbledore, but no less impressive, had his arms crossed like Vendra, and a look on his face so stern and immovable that Severus gulped.

He nodded. "Fine," he whispered.

What else could he do?


	12. Chapter 12

Warnings: Some SLASH of the Harry Potter/Severus Snape variety in this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Enjoy! Please review!

**Chapter Twelve – Amortentia**

Albus Dumbledore's office was eerily quiet but for the soft whirring and whizzing of his silver instruments and gadgets. Severus sat in the wooden chair before the desk. Dumbledore sat in his chair behind it, fingers steepled, eyes peering over the tops of his spectacles. Harry stood a short distance off, by the perch where a great phoenix rested, and slowly moved his left hand along the vibrant, exquisite feathers.

Nobody spoke, and Severus could feel the unfairness of the situation pressing in on him from all sides. He didn't see how he could possibly be to blame for anything, but Dumbledore wore a look that suggested otherwise. As the minutes ticked on, Severus grew more and more wary. Sweat had cooled on his skin, but now he was shaking, trembling from both cold and apprehension.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "What you have seen tonight," he began, "must never be mentioned to anyone."

Severus had expected as much. But still, it rankled to hear it. "You do realize, sir, that Sirius Black tried to kill me tonight." His voice came out icily calm.

"I do not believe that was his intention," said Dumbledore.

He was not aware of standing, but suddenly Severus knew that he was on his feet. "He lured me out to the Whomping Willow, where he knew there would be a werewolf!" he said, his voice only a few notes away from a shout. "It was Lupin, wasn't it? Lupin is a werewolf."

Dumbledore nodded. "Sit down," he said, his voice still placid.

Severus hesitated, but sat.

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, and then continued. "I believe it was Mr. Black's design to frighten you away from any further interaction or curiosity about his friends and himself. He never meant for anyone to get hurt."

Severus's lips pulled back. "He meant for it."

Harry left the phoenix and stood at Dumbledore's left side. His stare was even more piercing than the Headmaster's. "Mr. Black lashed out, albeit in a highly inappropriate fashion, because he is worried about his brother."

It was not at all what Severus had expected to hear, and it took him by surprise. "Regulus?"

"Yes," said Harry. "He is not oblivious to the fact that Regulus has been spending more time with you. Just because he and his brother do not get on does not mean he is immune to worry."

Severus felt his anger temporarily switch to Regulus Black. He had asked Black to take care of his brother. He had demanded that Regulus erase any suspicion on his brother's part. What had Regulus been thinking, to have not done so?

"The Howler," said Severus slowly.

"That was part of it," agreed Harry. "But only part."

"It doesn't excuse what he did," said Severus firmly. His rage was once again focused on Black. "He should be expelled."

"Mr. Black will be punished accordingly," interjected Dumbledore. "His punishment will be decided by me personally."

_Which is another way of saying he won't be expelled_, thought Severus viciously. "That's blatant favoritism," he hissed. He felt like standing again, anything to give him leverage over these two wizards. "I'm the victim here, but I feel like I'm being attacked all over again."

"We are not attacking you, Mr. Snape," said Harry. "We are trying to protect you. You, and Mr. Lupin, and even though you don't like it, Mr. Black as well."

Severus forced himself to take a long, deep breath. "I think I always knew," he murmured. "About Lupin, I mean. Some part of me always suspected what he really was. I imagine the Daily Prophet would be interested to learn that Hogwarts is harboring a rabid, dangerous werewolf."

"You will tell no one of this," said Dumbledore quietly.

Severus blazed on. "And Black and Potter and Pettigrew must be unregistered Animagi. I'm sure the Ministry will thank me handsomely when I tell them."

"You will speak to no one," said Dumbledore again, still quiet, but with iron in his voice.

Severus ignored him. "Of course, there is the little problem of me now having Life Debt to James Potter, but I'm sure I can spin the story in such a way as to –"

Dumbledore stood. He loomed over the desk, and the torches in the office flickered and danced. The phoenix trilled a warning.

"You will speak to no one," Dumbledore said, one final time, and Severus held his angry reply in check. "You will not spread word of this night. You will not start any rumors. You will not taunt Mr. Lupin or his friends. This I demand of you, Severus Snape. I demand your Wizard's Oath."

Severus swallowed. His mouth was very dry. "And if I refuse?" he asked.

"Then I will speak to your Head of House," said Dumbledore. "And we will find another way to silence you."

Severus felt his fingers curl into his palms. He wanted to stand up and scream. He glanced at Harry, but Harry was staring at his hands.

Severus stood slowly. "Fine," he said at last, and felt like sicking up. "I give my Wizard's Oath to breathe no word or hint of this night."

Dumbledore's shoulders relaxed. He nodded.

One more minute in this room, and Severus knew he would pull out his wand and start cursing. "You have now squeezed every last drop of pride from me," he said through clenched teeth. "If I may go?"

Dumbledore nodded again.

"I'll walk with you," said Harry.

Severus's lips tightened, but he shrugged a shoulder in acquiescence. They left the office together, Dumbledore's gaze burning into both their backs. For a time, they walked without speaking. Severus felt himself still prickling with anger and humiliation, and didn't trust himself to say anything at all. Soon, however, he could not keep his thoughts to himself.

"You took Dumbledore's side," was all he managed to say. He hoped it sounded as accusing as he meant it to sound.

Harry peered sideways at him. "Yes," he said simply.

Severus swallowed the bile that rose heavy in his throat from that single word. "Why?" he asked, and was pleased at least when his voice remained emotionless.

Harry sighed. "Severus, you have to understand –"

Severus cut him off with a snort. "Once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor, right? I had no chance in there with the two of you. I'm just a snake, after all."

Harry stopped walking. Severus kept on, determined to leave him behind, but he took only a few more steps. The force of Harry's presence drew him back down the corridor.

"What?" he snapped, losing any last vestige of patience he'd had.

"How can you say such a thing?" asked Harry. "How can you, when I have shown preference for you over every other student."

"Then why don't you stand up for me when I need it?" Severus shot right back.

"Why do you think I was there tonight to begin with?" said Harry furiously. "Dumbledore is losing patience with you, Severus. He wanted an Unbreakable Vow from you, before I convinced him that a Wizard's Oath would suffice. I assure you that another such Vow, on top of what you have already sworn to me, would not be pleasant."

Severus opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut him off with a sharp glance.

"I know you don't care that exposing Mr. Lupin would force the Headmaster to expel him," said Harry. "I know you don't care that it would ruin any chance he has for a passable adult life. That it would ostracize him from his peers and most of the Wizarding World. I know you especially won't ever believe that it was not Mr. Black's intention to kill you."

Severus laughed so mirthlessly that Harry actually glared at him.

"It is the job of the Headmaster, of every professor within Hogwarts, to ensure the wellbeing of each student," continued Harry. "We are keeping Mr. Lupin safe by holding you to a Wizard's Oath. I am keeping you safe by making it merely an Oath and not a Vow. And Mr. Black will be punished for his recklessness. Perhaps that isn't enough for you, but you have no choice here, Severus. You hold no authority in this matter."

Severus wanted to argue. But he couldn't find the words. "It is very unfair," he said at last, quietly.

Harry nodded. "I know."

"I will never forgive Black," said Severus.

Harry smiled, a gesture full of sadness that touched his eyes as well as his mouth. "I know," he said again.

Snape nodded. They resumed walking in silence. There seemed nothing more to say.

"How did you know?" asked Severus at last, after several minutes of silence. "How did you know what was happening tonight?"

Harry glanced at him. "I pieced it together," he answered. "I got bits from one mind, bits from another. Your anger, Regulus's nerves, Sirius's scheming. It didn't take much."

Severus mulled that over. He felt knots growing in his stomach. "Would you have done anything, if I hadn't managed to escape?" he asked. "Would you have acted?"

"Of course," said Harry without hesitation. "Nothing would have kept me away."

Severus felt the knots loosening. Something uncomfortably warm began taking their place.

"However," said Harry carefully. "I did see something in James Potter, something that let me know you would not be hurt."

"Did you know," said Severus contemplatively, "that his Animagus form is your Patronus? Or your Patronus is his Animagus? I'm not sure which."

Harry's lips thinned almost imperceptibly. "The stag is a noble, strong animal," he finally said. "I have known of more than one wizard to have that form as a Patronus."

Severus thought he might be lying, but he was suddenly too exhausted to press the issue. "Did you know they were all Animagi?" he asked instead.

"I was made aware, yes," said Harry. "Even if you don't like it, you must see that they did it to be with Mr. Lupin during his transformation. The bite of a werewolf does not affect animals like it does humans. They did it to try and ease his pain."

Severus nodded. He hated them all, but he could not begrudge the kindness of the action. It took immense skill and dedication to achieve the Animagus transformation.

"You care for them, don't you?" asked Severus, and almost wished he could have the words back.

But Harry merely looked at him. "They are my students. I care for their safety and their happiness. Yes, I care for them."

"And me?" asked Severus, his voice barely more than a breath.

"You know I do," said Harry quietly.

"But not like you do for them," said Severus. "Why?"

Harry sighed, a noise full of frustration and exasperation. "Does it matter, Mr. Snape? And as far as I recall, you wouldn't mind if I cared for you in a way that was altogether different than how I care for them."

It was meant as a joke, to lighten the mood, but Severus jerked back as if slapped. "I am to be humiliated in every fashion tonight, then," he whispered.

Instead of apologizing, as Severus half expected him to do, Harry shook his head in amazement.

"Sometimes I forget that you're still a child," he said, almost to himself.

Severus bristled with anger. "I am no child," he said. His emotions seemed ready to seethe out of him.

"Then start acting like an adult," snapped Harry. "Prove to me that you deserve to be treated like one. Think about someone other than yourself, for once in your life."

"I do think –"

"No, you don't!" interrupted Harry. "You didn't think once about Remus Lupin tonight, and how he didn't ask for this, but suffers for it each month regardless. You didn't think about James Potter, someone you have openly proclaimed an enemy, and how he saved you from a fate that many would consider worse than death!" Harry smiled coldly. "You thought of them only in terms of how they affect you. Always thinking of yourself. Childish thinking."

Severus wanted to protest, wanted to argue, but his body was growing tired and heavy. He had no energy left.

The anger drained from Harry's face. "You're slipping into shock," he said. He reached up, touched the back of his hand to Severus's forehead. "Come on, I'll give you a potion."

Severus followed him like a hurt puppy. Harry led him to the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor, to his office, where he sat him down and made him swallow a series of potions that all tasted even worse than they smelled.

"Do you wish to go the Hospital Wing?" asked Harry.

Severus shook his head.

"Can you make it back down to the dungeons?"

Severus nodded, then paused and shook his head, then grew dizzy and nodded again. Harry sighed.

"Get up," he said, and helped Severus stand. With a wave of his wand he transfigured the simple wooden chair into the coziest, fluffiest looking couch Severus had ever seen. Harry guided him to it. "Take your shoes off," he commanded.

Severus tried to obey. He fell down on the couch. The potions that Harry had given him were working fast. The last thing he remembered was Harry hovering over him. He fell asleep with one shoe still on.

(et all)

October passed. Halloween came with its usual fanfare of floating jack-o'-lanterns and staged headless hunts. The weather grew frigid. The students began studying in earnest for exams and free time seemed to disappear altogether.

Harry and Severus did not talk about Severus falling asleep in his office. In fact, they didn't talk much at all. In Defense class, Harry treated Severus just like any other student, and Severus seemed to prefer it that way. He worked hard in all of his classes, and even harder in his private lessons with Harry. Soon, he was so good at Occlumency and Legilimency that it was no longer about Harry teaching him. It became a battle of minds, with the outcomes being equal.

With the Reversal Potion, there was less progress. Several times Severus began a base, usually working on it for hours before he would grimace, vanish it, and prepare to start again. The one time Harry asked what was wrong, Severus just grumbled something a 'difficult personality' and refused to answer any more questions.

The Marauders, for all Severus paid them any attention, might as well have ceased to exist. In class, Severus completely ignored them. When they passed in the corridors, eyes automatically turned the other way. They said nothing to each other, traded not even insults.

Sirius never told anyone what his punishment had been, but he disappeared each evening for the rest of October, and half into November, and came back to the Gryffindor Common Room in the early morning looking and smelling like he'd waded through dung. He always looked pale, and he watched Remus so closely that the other Marauders began looking at him strangely.

Remus had tried to apologize to Snape. He approached him two weeks after the full moon, fully prepared to express his regrets, to try to make amends. Snape hadn't even let him open his mouth. He'd pressed the tip of his wand hard into the space between Remus's eyes, and said coldly, "Don't."

Remus had nodded, held up his hands peacefully, and turned to leave. He had already suffered enough guilt over something he knew wasn't his fault. He wasn't going to blame himself even more for Snape's pride.

Winter enveloped the castle. Snow announced the welcome approach of Christmas, relief from exams, and for many, a journey home.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus had always been a creature of habit.

It was not hard to fall back into the routine of studying for long hours, leaving very little time for anything else. He had always been a hard-working student, but in the weeks leading up to Christmas holiday, he surpassed even the expectations of his professors.

He did not speak more than was necessary to Harry. He had chosen to forget, as much as he could, passing out drugged onto a transfigured couch, waking up disoriented, stumbling away before Harry showed himself. He had told Rodolphus and Evan nothing about the werewolf attack, and only reluctantly admitted to having slept in Professor James's office after a slight – and fabricated – accident involving a sinking stair and a spooked prefect. He wasn't sure if they believed him, but they didn't question him either.

"What are you going to do about Professor James?" Evan had asked.

Severus quirked an eyebrow, but didn't demand an elaboration. His infatuation with Harry was known to both Evan and Rodolphus, and they fully expected him to act on it before holiday.

"Something he won't be expecting," was all Severus would say, and left it at that.

What got him through the remaining weeks of term without going crazy was a plan – a slowly evolving plan that he hoped to put into effect during the last private meeting that he would have with Harry before Christmas.

All Severus knew was, if something didn't change soon, someone was going to get hurt.

(HP-HP-HP)

Harry looked up at the knock on his office door. He looked at the old, antique clock he had situated on the wall opposite his desk. It was five till seven in the evening.

"Come in," he called, and then continued reading through the essay before him.

The door opened. Harry glanced up and saw Severus slouch in, all hunched shoulders and gangly limbs hidden beneath a heavy winter cloak.

"You're early, Mr. Snape," said Harry.

There was something uneasy between Snape and he, and Harry knew it. He felt it now as Snape took off his cloak and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Harry found himself absently watching those spidery fingers work, watching the play of light over Snape's bare forearms. He took a moment to appreciate that no Dark Mark marred the skin there, and then he forced himself to look away.

"I've set up the cauldron for you," said Harry, gesturing to the corner workspace where Severus had taken to brewing. "You are, of course, welcome to rummage through my personal stores. You'll let me know if you need anything?"

Snape spared him a look, and there was something dark and burning in his black eyes that made Harry shiver. He nodded shortly and slipped quietly behind the cauldron. He lit a fire under the cauldron, and his expression slipped into the calm, halfway peaceful mask that Harry now associated with brewing potions. Ignoring the tingles that raced up his arms and neck, Harry turned back to the essay on his desk. He had an entire stack of them to grade tonight, and Second Years were notoriously bad at spelling.

He and Snape managed to avoid each other for the next hour, during which time Harry lost himself in the rhythmic marking of essays. He was dimly aware of the room growing thick with the smell of potions, but he looked up at Snape only once, to find him bent over a small crystal vial, smelling the contents within. Convinced that Snape was as distracted as he, Harry set aside the Second Years' essays and pulled the stack of Third Years' essays toward him.

Another quarter of an hour passed in silence, at which time Harry set down his quill and rolled his shoulders. He flexed his fingers and grunted at the satisfying 'pop' that resulted.

"Tense, Professor James?"

Harry looked up. Snape was still standing behind the cauldron. Steam rose from it in swirls and spirals, in a way that Harry found familiar, but distantly so. He raised an eyebrow and stood. He moved slowly toward Snape's corner.

"This, Mr. Snape, does not look like the potion I requested."

Harry stared down into its shimmery, pearly depths. His mind flashed back to the Hogwarts dungeons, long ago, when in his own Sixth Year, Professor Slughorn had taught his students about Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. Harry closed his eyes as the steam puffed around his face. He used to smell a flowery fragrance when confronted with this potion, one that reminded him of Ginny, but it had disappeared long ago.

Now, as the steam swirled around him, he smelled something quite different than flowers, different as well from the clean, fresh scent that had reminded him of Jules Orion, the Healer. What he smelled now was a darker, headier scent, slightly chemical, with an underlying mixture of spices.

"This is Amortentia," Harry breathed, and looked at Snape.

Snape looked right back. He did not confirm or deny Harry's claim, but asked, simply, "What do you smell?"

Harry shook his head, tried to clear it, and took a step back. "I don't see how that's any of your concern, Mr. Snape," he said. "Vanish it, please, and start again. The correct potion, this time."

But Snape did not vanish the potion. He did not move at all. "I smell holly," he whispered. He kept his eyes on Harry's. They glittered dark in his pale face. "I smell holly, and pumpkin juice, and magic."

The steam was so thick now it surrounded both Harry and Severus in misty spirals. "You can't smell magic," countered Harry.

Snape stepped out from behind the workspace. Harry had never been bothered by his lean height before, but it seemed more of a threat now, in the cloudy room, with the overwhelming smell of chemicals and spices surrounding him. "Stop, Severus," he ordered.

Snape inched closer. Harry only realized he had been backing up when he felt the solid front of his own desk behind his legs.

"I smell magic," said Snape, more firmly. "I smell it all over you."

Harry shook his head. He blinked rapidly, and tried to focus on Snape, but he saw too late that the young Slytherin was very close to him now. His eyes were too large, too black. Harry couldn't think.

"I don't smell like magic," he began, mumbling, but cut off with a short, stifled gasp.

Snape had pressed the entire length of his long body against Harry, and Harry trembled and leaned forward even as some distant part of his mind told him he should be moving away. But he hadn't had something like this, this contact, in so long. He felt as if he had no control over his own actions and body. His head rolled limply to one side. He vaguely felt Snape bury his nose in the crook between neck and shoulder.

"Why do you fight me?" Snape asked, his voice so quiet Harry almost didn't hear. His breath ghosted over Harry's skin, making it prickle. "I could make it so good for you, if you just give in. Give in, Harry."

Snape's arms circled his waist. His lips pressed soft, teasing kisses into Harry's neck. Harry whimpered. The fumes from the Amortentia potion filled his office, and that scent was all he could take in. He melted boneless against the desk and felt one of Snape's long-fingered hands move up his back, to his neck, into his hair. Harry blinked slowly, saw Snape mere centimeters away, and then those coercing lips were on his.

One of them moaned. Harry wasn't sure who. He felt himself sit down on the desk. He felt Snape gently move his legs apart, felt him fit himself between them. He felt the sweet bites on his lower lip, his tongue sucked into Snape's mouth, and then he knew he was the one moaning, the one groaning his pleasure, the one moving closer, closer for the type of contact he hadn't had in years. Snape's hands curled around Harry, and their tongues battled.

Somewhere outside of this office, outside of the Amortentia steam, Harry knew this was wrong. He knew Snape was a student, knew he should push him away, but the smell, the smell made it impossible. He wanted to sit there and be kissed by those lips forever. Snape pressed himself ever closer, and Harry felt the blood rush through him, felt a corresponding hardness from Snape. Suddenly, he felt the will to give as good as he got.

He raised his own hands and brought them to either side of Snape's face. He nipped at Snape's lips, curled his tongue around Snape's, delighted in the gasp and the groan that action wrenched from the younger man.

"Yes," Snape hissed against his lips. "Merlin, Harry, yyessssss."

They were moving, rippling against each other, and Harry understood all at once that everything between them had been building toward this one moment, devoid of subtlety, all carnal pleasure and pure instinct.

"Not a good lover," Harry gasped as Snape's fingers flew over the buttons of his shirt.

"Good to me," Snape said quickly, and bent to suck each patch of skin as it was revealed to him.

Harry leant back on his elbows and watched the dark head move across his chest. "Not good with fidelity," he murmured, and buried his hand in those black tresses.

Snape glanced up. "Not asking for fidelity."

They moved. They were standing, pivoting across the room. Harry felt his shirt fall away as he pressed Snape against the cold stone wall. Snape's hands moved hotly across his back as he leaned up to capture those lips again.

"Don't stop," Snape moaned into his mouth. "Keep going."

Harry had no intention of stopping.

But suddenly, Snape's hips jerked forward, once, twice, and Harry gasped at the sensation, and shook his head, and felt something in his brain come back to life. Suddenly, he knew where he was.

He leaped away from Snape while at the same time turning his student toward the door. He swept his shirt up off the floor, hastily pulled it on, completely vanished the steam and the cauldron full of Amortentia with merely a thought, and stood staring at Snape, who looked confused and disoriented, both of them panting. Slowly they regained their senses. Harry grew more coldly furious by the second, possibly because Snape looked so flushed and disheveled, and altogether unapologetic.

"This should not have happened," Harry finally said, his voice very low and quiet because he did not entirely trust himself not to shout.

Snape stood up to his full height. He towered. "You were not unwilling," he argued.

"Yes, the potion saw to that, didn't it?" said Harry icily. "You do realize that what you have just done is illegal."

Snape shook his head vehemently. "Not if the recipient is willing. You're a much more powerful wizard than I. If you hadn't wanted the influence of the potion, you would not have let it affect you." He gestured toward the empty cauldron. "You got rid of it completely with nothing but a glance, for Salazar's sake. Do not tell me you could not have done the same earlier."

Harry scrubbed a hand across his eyes. "You coerced me all the same," said Harry.

"You liked it," snapped Snape.

Harry covered his face with his hands and swallowed a scream. He took several deep breaths, then lowered his hands and forced himself to look Snape in the eye. "I am your teacher," he said, as if that were argument enough. "You are my student." He laughed humorlessly. "And you're yet underage!"

"I'll be seventeen in January," said Snape, his calm directly contrary to Harry's anger. "When holiday is over, and we come back to school, I'll be of age." His lips curled upwards. "I know what I want."

"You don't want me," said Harry thickly.

"I do," Snape shot right back. "If I did not, I would not have done what I did tonight."

"You're confused," said Harry desperately, "and young, and…" He floundered. The traitorous steam was gone, but Snape's apparent serenity was unraveling him just as effectively.

"You know I'm not," said Snape quietly. "You are still fighting. Fighting something you've already given in to."

Magic crackled across Harry's skin. He could feel it breaching the surface, ready to explode out of him like the accidental magic of children. Snape seemed to notice. He tilted his head slightly and smiled crookedly at Harry.

"I can see this is overwhelming for you," he said. He picked up his cloak and slung it over his arm. He opened the office door. "I'll go. Have a good holiday, Harry."

He left. The door swung gently closed behind him.

Harry stumbled around his desk, dropped heavily into his chair. He leaned forward over his desk and let his head fall onto the smooth wood. There had to be something wrong with him. He knew there had to be one hundred reasons as to why he should forget Snape, as to why he should go straight to Dumbledore, confess everything, and resign immediately. One hundred reasons.

But he couldn't bring himself to say a single one out loud.

Wearily, Harry closed his eyes. Holiday now appeared an ever more welcome escape. With Severus Snape gone from the castle, Harry couldn't be distracted by him. Perhaps he could even figure out how to deal with whatever had grown between them. Harry still wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't think it was healthy.

Yes, it was definitely time for some Christmas cheer.


	13. Chapter 13

Hey guys! Thanks for reading and for the reviews! I'm going out of town this week, so I have a small sort of 'intermission' type chapter for you. I know it's not much, but it was this or nothing for about two more weeks.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: Harry-centric chapter, including bad language and Harry in sexual situations (that unfortunately don't involve Severus). Lots of background in this one.

Please review!

**Chapter 13 – Interlude**

The castle was more silent than Harry could ever remember it being. Most of the students – excluding a handful furiously preparing for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s – had gone home for holiday. The corridors were cold and empty against a backdrop of gently flurrying snow. The grounds were as white as Harry had ever seen them, and silent, and undisturbed. He began taking long walks, casting spells as he went so his footprints would disappear, to avoid meals in the Great Hall. His normal place between Dumbledore and Slughorn had become a bit too much to bear, with the twinkling from one side and the constant chatter from the other. With the house tables nearly empty, meal times were a grim and quiet affair, and Harry took every opportunity to escape.

The castle felt lonely.

In reality, Harry knew that it was he who was lonely. Without the students buzzing about, there was nothing to keep him occupied. Nothing to distract him from the fact that he was living in the wrong time. Hogwarts had always been home to him. But _this _Hogwarts was not. It felt increasingly different. As if the castle itself were becoming a weight, trying to crush the presence it could sense did not belong.

So Harry walked to relieve the loneliness. To relieve the feeling that even the castle did not want him. Outside, in the fresh air, in the cold snow, he could pretend that he was taking a stroll in his own time. That he could return in an instant to Grimmauld Place, or the Burrow, or the restored cottage in Godric's Hollow, and be welcomed by his friends. He could pretend that his safe return did not depend so heavily on such a wanting teenage boy.

And then Harry's thoughts would simply shut off. He walked mindlessly, refusing to think of Snape. Refusing to reflect on their last meeting, even though he could still feel the heat of it in his bones, and he could not sit in his office without remembering.

Harry felt like the castle and his thoughts were consuming him.

So when Slughorn asked if Harry wanted to join some of the staff in Hogsmeade for drinks on Christmas Eve, Harry said yes.

The Three Broomsticks was loud and crowded. Slughorn made his way jovially through the crowd, greeting everyone whether he knew them or not. Harry made his way to the bar and ordered himself a firewhiskey. Madam Rosmerta, young, beautiful, tilted her face up with a smile, and Harry kissed her on the cheek and nodded his thanks when she insisted on covering his drink.

He moved easily through the pub with tankard in hand, found the table where Slughorn, and Dumbledore, and Sprout, and even McGonagall were laughing over their own frothing tankards. He sat down and took a long gulp of whiskey, and closed his eyes as the burn traveled like silk down his throat.

"So I told him," boomed Slughorn, "I told him that Devil's Snare was in the next room, and –"

Harry let himself listen to the conversation without partaking. His eyes wandered.

"You did not!" gasped Sprout, but she was giggling like a school girl and clutching McGonagall's arm.

A blonde witch in the corner caught his eye. She was small, and curvy, and wearing a red dress that left just enough to the imagination. She had pouty red lips, and she smiled a slow, impish smile when Harry's eyes caught hers. He finished his whiskey without taking his eyes off her.

He turned to smile at his colleagues. "More drinks?" he asked.

They laughed and raised their glasses and shook their heads.

"Cheers," said Harry, and stood up.

The curvy little witch leaned back against the wall as Harry approached her.

"Buy you a drink?" he asked, and gave her his own smile, and watched, pleased, as her lips parted and she tilted her face up towards his.

"Had one too many already," she said breathlessly, and Harry noticed that her eyes were unfocused, and the wall was more for support than anything.

Harry stepped closer and raised his hand and let it drift over her smooth hair. "Something more fun than a drink, then," he said, and it was not a question, because there was never a doubt in his mind that she would join him.

Her eyes glazed over. She arched up on tip toes and Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and Apparated them away just as she settled her lips over his with a small sigh. She didn't even seem to notice when they arrived in a room upstairs, or when Harry shut and locked the door.

She broke away from Harry with a little gasp. "My name's Meli–"

Harry placed a finger over her lips. "No need for names, love," he whispered, and slid his fingers under a red strap, and moved it over her shoulder while his other hand traveled behind her and lowered the zipper, and her creamy skin was revealed inch by inch.

And this had always been Harry's problem, at least according to Ginny. It was why he always ultimately ended up alone. It had taken a couple of years, but eventually he and Ginny had bonded over the fact that neither of them seemed able to settle down. Harry thought it was simple restlessness that had made his eyes wander from Ginny to Jules Orion, though Ginny didn't see it that way, and even Ron and Hermione were shocked that he ended up cheating. Nobody could understand how the boy who had always craved a family, who had a girl who was willing to give one to him, had suddenly just not wanted it anymore.

Harry himself never quite understood it, not until Ginny showed up at Godric's Hollow out of the blue one day, two years after they had split up.

"I get it," she'd said, and had invited herself in and proceeded to make tea while Harry made sandwiches, and they sat and talked for hours, and at the end of it they came to the mutual conclusion that neither of them could handle a static relationship.

It wasn't that Harry didn't love Ginny. He would always love Ginny. There was just more excitement to be had in moving from one thing to the next, one person to the next, with no room for sitting still.

"It was school that did us in, Harry," Ginny had said. "Never a dull moment at school. Saying you want a family, a normal life is all well and good, until you actually try it. And then suddenly you're hyperventilating because you're at home and not out _doing _something."

And somehow, between them, that made sense.

And when Ginny got up and sat down in his lap, and looked at him with those soulful brown eyes, and began unbuttoning his shirt, that made sense too. They made love in a chair in the kitchen, and it was like the first and last time, and when it was over, Ginny kissed him on the cheek and told him she was going to Romania to apprentice with Charlie, and they owled each other once a month.

And eventually Ron and Hermione stopped questioning his inability to settle down. It became a part of who he was, just like the wandless magic became a part of who he was, and natural Legilimency became a part of who he was, and his undeniable leadership not just within the Aurors, but within the Wizarding World, became a part of who he was.

And when he left the little blonde witch alone in bed on Christmas morning, that was just another part of him, too. He went out and bought her a beautiful white jumper, and had it sent to the room above The Three Broomsticks, with an unsigned note wishing her a happy Christmas.

When he got back to Hogwarts, there was a package sitting on his desk in his office wrapped in plain brown paper. To either side of it were gifts from the members of staff. But the brown package, with a note that bore Snape's unmistakable penmanship, captured all of his attention. For a time he sat and did nothing but stare at the package. When he finally picked it up, he unwrapped it as gently as he had undressed the blonde witch. Inside was a large crystal beaker filled with a potion that was clear as water.

Snape's note said it was the completed base to the Reversal Potion, and could Harry please store it somewhere dark and cool for him?

Harry held the beaker and looked at the clear liquid within, and felt his breathing become sharp and erratic at the thought of Snape spending his holiday working on Harry's potion. He closed his eyes and could not stop his mind from imagining Snape's reaction to his behavior last night.

_Happy Christmas, Severus. I went and slept with a complete stranger but couldn't give you the same pleasure. Happy Christmas. _

He put his head down on his desk and felt sick to his stomach. He thought about staying that way all day, but then Slughorn knocked on his door and demanded he come down to the Christmas feast, and Harry tucked the potion away into a corner of his store cupboard, and let Horace lead him to the Great Hall, where he was surrounded by Christmas cheer and tried as hard as he could to avoid the all-too-knowing eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

When he was finally able to make his escape, with goodbyes and hugs and kisses for his fellow professors, it was nearing midnight. Slughorn had insisted on coffee and biscuits, and they had played Christmas games, and sung Christmas songs, and Harry had wandlessly maneuvered more than one sprig of mistletoe to another corner of the Great Hall. By the time he made it back to his own quarters, he had a headache the size of Hogsmeade. He fell into bed and slept restlessly, and dreamt of Ginny, and Jules Orion, and Snape. Mostly Snape.

When he woke the next day, he could remember only snippets of those dreams. He remembered he and Snape sitting in his office. He remembered an exchange of heated words, heated glances, and heated touches. He tried not to think about those dreams. He tried not to think about Snape at all.

Harry left the castle after lunch, to clear his head, he claimed, and when he made it past the wards he Apparated to The Leaky Cauldron and made his way into Diagon Alley. The stone avenues were more crowded than Harry could ever remember seeing them. Throngs of witches and wizards and children streamed by on either side, enjoying Boxing Day, Harry presumed. He strolled casually with the masses, letting the rush of people move him along, door to door, shop front to shop front.

He went into the Apothecary and bought enough potions ingredients to restock his supply, so that Snape would be well prepared to continue with the Reversal Potion. He got an ice cream from Florean Fortescue's and spent a long time wandering around Quality Quidditch Supplies, staring at the brooms that were so different from those he had owned as a school boy. The Nimbus 1001 caught his attention. It looked beautiful, even if Harry knew it would have nothing on the Nimbus 2000, which would not be released for many, many years.

Harry remained in Diagon Alley until sundown. By then, the streets had cleared. Families had gone home for the day, or into pubs or restaurants for dinner. Harry walked without interruption from the few shoppers who remained outdoors. For the first time in a while, his mind felt at ease. He felt calm. Which is why, when three men in casual clothes and long black winter cloaks walked by him, he did not immediately react. As they passed each other, however, Harry paused almost against his will, and turned to look after them.

The two men on the ends were tall, hulking fellows. They had ordinary faces, with no distinguishing markings or scars. The man in the middle, shorter, slender like Harry, stopped almost at the same instant as Harry did, and turned to look back as well. He had neat brown hair and flawless pale skin and large brown eyes that shone curiously as he regarded Harry.

And Harry's skin prickled when the man opened his mouth, and for a moment he felt the air move, as if something were touching him, testing him.

"Do you know me?" the brown eyed man asked, quietly, and Harry thought it was a strange thing to ask, instead of the more neutral "Have we met? You seem familiar."

But Harry shook his head anyway, and answered "No." The word felt wrong coming out of his mouth. He was sure he knew this man.

The stranger seemed to know it as well. He looked at Harry as one looks at a wrapped present, the shape and size of which is known, but the contents a mystery. His eyes moved over Harry logically, methodically, in a way that itched, and Harry tried not to shuffle his feet under that gaze. And then, for the first time, he noticed the long pale fingers, and between them a long wand. A yew wand.

In an instant, every last one of Harry's instincts were awakened. In less than a minute his mind had supplied a dozen different ways to kill the stranger, to hide the body, to destroy the evidence. In the other half of that minute, he singled out six different methods of escape, three of them ending with no harm done on either side.

"You do know me," the man said again, and this time it was not a question, and it cut straight through Harry's focus like a knife. "Come to dinner with me."

Harry smiled pleasantly. He had decided on escape. He shook his head as calmly as he could. "No, thank you," he said. "You must have me confused with someone else."

The man's eyes – Voldemort's eyes – narrowed. They were not the eyes Harry was accustomed to. It was not the face Harry was accustomed to. He must have been under Polyjuice, for though the body was similar, it was not even the human form of Tom Riddle that Harry stood across from.

"Happy shopping," said Harry, and summoned up the most charming smile he could muster, and turned and walked away.

He felt eyes following him. He knew that his tense shoulders, his body that was strung to leap into action at any moment, was noticed. But he dared not Apparate. Voldemort would pick the magical signature out of a trail like that in a heartbeat. He had no choice but to walk away. Or to turn and cast a single spell, a spell that would earn him a cell in Azkaban, a spell that would have to be used twice more on the giant lackeys. Not to mention the memory charms that he would need to cast on any witnesses. The cleanse he would have to perform either on his wand or his core to erase any ghost of the Killing Curse brought up by Prior Incantato. The ripples and possibly disastrous effects that such an action would have, completed before it was meant to be.

No. Better to walk away. At least for now. Voldemort still didn't know who he was, even if he was aware of Harry's existence. That, at least, was good.

Harry passed through The Leaky Cauldron quickly, though calmly, and once outside Apparated directly back to Hogwarts. He altered the wards as he passed through them, reformed them to fit his magic, the way Dumbledore had always done, and landed safely back in his own room.

It was only later, after he had replayed the conversation a half dozen times in his head, that he realized the way they had been speaking was odd. His mind recalled minute details he had not noticed at the time, such as the blank confusion on the lackeys' faces, and how both Harry and Voldemort had sent out tendrils of magic to test each other, the way wild animals would. But even then, Voldemort should not have been able to pick Harry out of a crowd, even one with diminished numbers. There must have been something else that gave Harry away as an unusual wizard, besides his magic.

And it was only then, as Harry's eyes alighted on the bottle of snakeskin that he had purchased earlier that day, that he realized they had been speaking Parseltongue.

The bottle slipped from his fingers.

"Fuck."


	14. Chapter 14

OHMIGOSH WRITER'S BLOCK SUCKS!

With that being said, I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but thank you so much for all the reviews for last chapter! I'm glad you all are enjoying my story. Also, points to anyone who knows where I got the title to this chapter. Hint: it's the title of something else. Not a good hint, but, take what you can.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money by writing this.

Warnings: none really for this chapter

Thanks for your patience! Please review!

**Chapter 14 – Nightmares and Daydreams**

"You look tired."

Harry glanced up, and it was a mark of just how exhausted he truly was that he found himself surprised to see Severus Snape. "I didn't hear you come in," said Harry, and then tried to catch the words as they left his mouth. Instead he looked down again and hoped that Snape would ignore his comment. "Did you have a good holiday?" asked Harry as he shuffled papers on his desk.

"It was quiet," answered Snape. He hung his cloak on the hook by the door and came toward Harry's desk. He stopped in front of it, close enough for Harry to reach out and touch him, far enough away to not be taken as a threat.

Harry looked up from his papers and felt a faint smile ghost across his lips. Severus looked good. Better than he remembered. He wore all black, as usual, but the material of his trousers was almost silky, and flowed down his long legs. His hair looked lighter and softer, as if the time away from the Hogwarts dungeons had done him some good. Harry half lifted a hand to run his fingers through that hair, and then stopped.

"I never thanked you properly for sending me the base to the Revival Potion," said Harry. "It was a wonderful gift to receive. Thank you, Severus."

Snape dipped his head, but lifted it again almost immediately to peer at Harry with those shadow black eyes. "You… do not look well," he said slowly, considering. His gaze raced across Harry's body, and a small frown appeared on his face, as if he was not pleased with what he saw.

Harry saw danger in that frown and those eyes, and he did the only thing he could think of, the only thing that came naturally to him after all these years. He smiled his charming smile, and Occluded so hard he was surprised Snape couldn't feel it.

"I've been to see Madam Pomfrey," said Harry easily. "She thinks my insomnia has returned. She's given me a supply of Pepper-Up and Dreamless Sleep. I should start to look better in a few days."

Snape's eyes narrowed. And then Harry felt them, the tiniest probes of foreign thought touching at his mind. He continued to smile absently and gave no sign that he was aware of Snape's snooping, but he did build up his walls to make sure there was no way Snape could get inside.

"Hmmmm," Snape hummed, and a moment later Harry felt him pull out. He probably thought that he had done it as smoothly as Harry himself could.

They stood staring at each other, and Harry was very aware of the memory that lingered between them and made the air heavy. For a moment, Harry thought he felt Snape's fingers and lips, but then the moment passed, and it was just cold air that touched his skin.

"I think you're lying," said Snape quietly. "Or, at least, not telling the whole truth. Did something happen over holiday?"

Harry cleared his mind of all thought. It seemed strange to him that once this had been such a hard task, back when things were reversed and he the student. Even with Snape standing across from him, even with those eyes looking the same as they had when Harry was young, it was an effortless thing to clear his mind.

Harry shook his head. He had no doubts that Snape would eventually find out about his meeting with Voldemort, but it wouldn't be today.

"I'm glad you're back, Severus," said Harry, and meant it. "When would you like to continue with the potion?"

Snape stared at him blankly for a moment, and then moved his shoulders in what might have been a shrug or what might have been an attempt to work out a knot. "I have a few days before classes resume. Tomorrow? Or the following day?"

"Tomorrow would be perfect," said Harry. "We can continue on with Occlumency and Legilimency as well."

Snape smirked. "If you think it necessary."

Harry laughed, and it came out biting and sharp, and reminded him of Sirius. "You're good, Severus. Perhaps one of the best I've ever encountered, or taught. But there's always room for improvement."

Severus nodded. "Tomorrow, then." He let his eyes linger for a moment over Harry's body, let his lips curl in a way that Harry could not interpret. And then he turned and left.

Harry fell down into his chair and dropped his head into his hand. He felt like liquid sloshing aimlessly, and felt heavy at the same time. He sighed, and thought about Severus, and could not decide if he was pleased or disappointed with their encounter. His temples throbbed. He massaged them gently.

The headaches had come after meeting Voldemort.

They had not gone away since.

(SS-SS-SS)

Severus traded talk back and forth with Evan and Rodolphus as they arranged their belongings in the Sixth Year Boys' Dorm.

Rodolphus looked stern and wore a moody frown even as he unpacked. He mentioned briefly that he had been required to spend time with Bellatrix Black over holiday, and his shoulders hunched as he mentioned it, and his face grew cloudy. Evan teased and wheedled him for more information. What was Bellatrix like casually? Did she always look as if she were about to curse something? Did she have a sense of humor? Did she even have a personality at all? But Rodolphus remained stubbornly tight-lipped and refused to share details.

"Have you slept with her?" asked Evan finally, with a raised eyebrow.

"You know that isn't allowed before marriage," said Rodolphus, but the upward turn of his lips said exactly what he thought about that particular pureblood rule, and he glanced at Severus and quite by accident, Severus glimpsed an image of Rodolphus and Bellatrix covered by black sheets, moving greedily against each other.

Severus cast his eyes upward and smirked. The bedroom was probably the only place that both Rodolphus and Bellatrix could stand each other.

"You look a bit peaky, Severus," said Evan. "Does the idea of Rodolphus and that witch upset you so much?"

Severus glared half-heartedly in Evan's direction. "I actually have a bit of a headache," he said. "I think I'll go visit Pomfrey."

Vendra nearly tackled him to the floor as he left the dorm, and he hugged her and leant down to rest his chin on top of her purple hair, which had grown all the way to her waist over holiday (with the help of a spell, no doubt). She looped her arm through his and refused to let go even when he said he was off to the Hospital Wing.

"I'll walk with you," she said, and it was not a suggestion or a question, and Severus accepted it with a nod.

They walked quietly for a time, and Vendra spent half of it gazing so solemnly at him that he finally looked down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You seem older," she said quietly, and then continued on before he could remind her that he'd had his birthday. "I mean, something about you has changed."

"My temper had a chance to cool a bit," Severus admitted. He remembered the quiet days in his room and how his father hadn't bothered him once. "I practiced that exercise that Professor James set us at the beginning of term," he said.

He meant Occlumency, of course, but he didn't say it, and if Vendra had figured out what Harry was really teaching them, she didn't let on. She just nodded.

"Yes," she said. "You seem to have a more practiced sense of control about you."

She said it so seriously that Severus laughed, and a moment later Vendra joined him. They reached the Hospital Wing giggling like First Years, and Madam Pomfrey looked at them strangely before briskly asking what could have possibly happened to bring them there after just a few hours back at school.

"It's just a headache, Madam," said Severus, and he turned his voice polite and eager. "Do you have a potion?"

The nurse swept off toward her supply cabinet. "You're not the first to approach me about headaches, Mr. Snape," she called over her shoulder. "There have actually been a strange number of complaints, both over holiday and since most of the students have returned."

Severus tilted his head and tried to look curious. "Is that so?"

Madam Pomfrey took a small vial of potion from her cabinet. "A strange number," she repeated, and handed the vial to Severus.

"Thank you," he said, and looked into her eyes as he unstoppered it, and as softly as he could, slipped into her mind.

He _had _been practicing over holiday, and sort of like the Unforgivable Curses, Legilimency got easier with practice. He now perfectly understood what Harry must have felt when he dove into the minds of his Sixth Years for the first time. It was appalling, the lack of mental defense in most minds, and Severus actually felt embarrassed for those he intruded upon by using Legilimency.

Madam Pomfrey was definitely lacking the proper defenses. Her mind was as open as if she were revealing her thoughts to Severus aloud, and it took him only a second to find her memories of Harry. He had indeed been to the hospital shortly after Christmas. But it wasn't just insomnia that bothered him.

"_The nightmares aren't that bad, Madam Pomfrey," said Harry easily with his blinding smile. _

"_You're staying the night all the same, Professor," she said sternly, and saw to it that Harry took a bed. _

_She was awakened in the night by his screaming. He was still asleep when she rushed out to him, but screaming as if he were being tortured. It took her five minutes to wake him, and when he finally did jerk upright, his wand was in her ribs and he had spat something in a language she didn't recognize, and her whole body tightened until she could not have moved, could not have made a sound even if she wanted to. His eyes were glowing Avada Kedavra green. And then he gasped and reared back and she could move again, and she felt his forehead and he sat there gasping and breathing and apologizing over and over under his breath. _

_He left the hospital that night even though she begged him to stay. She gave him Dreamless Sleep and Pepper-Up, and told him to come back if he needed to, but he never did. _

_She had a sinking suspicion that this happened to him every night. _

Severus pulled out and smiled and tipped back the potion as if nothing had happened. He hadn't really had a headache, but the potion cleared his mind and made it easier to think.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he said. "You've been very helpful."

She nodded graciously. "Anything for you, dear?" she asked Vendra.

Vendra shook her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

She peered at Severus as they left the Hospital Wing and he pretended that he couldn't feel her sharp blue gaze on his face. It was a mark of their friendship, and of Vendra's self-control, that she didn't ask him anything. Possibly she could tell, by the half-frown on his face, that he was thinking very hard about something.

(LE-LE-LE)

Lily Evans was one of the first students back in the Gryffindor Common Room, aside from the students who had remained at Hogwarts for Christmas. She had unpacked and reorganized her belongings in her dorm, and was out in the Common Room reading when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and James Potter and Sirius Black walked in.

Her eyes moved up and then down again, and she raised the book to cover the blush that she knew was spreading across her face, and she tried to ignore the way her heart jumped at the sight of James Potter. It hadn't always been like this. She remembered when James Potter's presence produced in her nothing more than mild distaste. Now, all he had to do was show up and her stomach set to fluttering. She tried to keep her eyes on her book, but they strayed up to his flyaway hair and his hazel eyes and his warm skin more than she would have liked.

She had to remind herself, as he caught sight of her and his face broke into a brilliant smile, that she was angry with him.

Lily had always prided herself on being able to control her outward appearance, and that control did not fail her as James sat down next to her and Sirius propped himself on the arm of the couch.

"Lily! Have a good Christmas? Did you get my gift? Did you change your hair?"

"How goes it, Evans? Why do you look different?"

She glanced between James and Sirius, who had spoken at the same time, and was proud of her outward calm even as her insides remained a fluttering mess. It took them all of five seconds before they realized she was not amused.

"What's happened?" asked James.

Lily closed her book calmly and smoothed her hands over her jumper. "Funny, I thought you might ask Remus that question."

James and Sirius shared one of their glances, the kind that spoke without words, and they both wore frowns when they looked at her again.

"What do you mean?" asked Sirius, and his voice was quiet and intense in the way that it always was now when Remus was the topic of the conversation.

Lily stood. "I think you should go ask Remus why he showed up at my house in the middle of the night a few days after Christmas. Ask him what kind of state he was in. I imagine it will be quite… revealing."

_There,_ thought Lily with a satisfied smile as James and Sirius shared stupefied looks. _I can be just as obscure and mysterious as you lot when I want to be. _

She strolled casually away, but paused halfway across the room and looked back over her shoulder and smiled sweetly. "I did change my hair, by the way. Thanks for noticing."

She hadn't, really. She'd just tried curling it differently. But it was nice of them to mention it all the same. A girl needed that kind of reassurance every once in a while, even a girl as confident as Lily Evans.

And it didn't hurt to have James Potter looking at her with those moon eyes, either.


End file.
